


Snowed In!

by NorthwesternInsanity



Category: Cinderella (Band), Def Leppard, Dokken (Band), Music RPF, Ratt, Winger (Band)
Genre: A full house, Band Drama, Chaos, Crack Fic, Fluff, Gen, Gettysburg, Humor, Laugh Attack, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attack, Roughhousing, Sledding, Snow Day, Snow in Appalachia, Snowball Fight, Snowboarding Fail, Snowed In, fight, mountain lodge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 09:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12454656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthwesternInsanity/pseuds/NorthwesternInsanity
Summary: What happens when five bands at a venue set for a music festival get snowed in by a storm that cancels the performance too?  Everyone there has the wildest snow day of their lives!  (Extremely fluffy crackfic)





	1. Prologue: A Festival in the Mountains

**Author's Note:**

> *Warning: This will probably be locked to users-only soon -I have it open right now to show to a few friends who aren't members. Maybe I'll change my mind, but be forewarned if I don't*

Rick Allen came out of sleep to open his eyes to the bunk room in the lodge. Snaking his arm out to the corner platform between the two upper bunks that wrapped around the corner of the room, he felt around and searched his flashlight and watch.

3:00 o'clock in the morning. That was, 3:00 o'clock Eastern Standard Time in the outer reaches of the United States Appalachian mountain range, somewhere just outside and South of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It seemed like an unlikely place at first thought to accept a festival event, but it wasn't far from an interstate, and was a central location that could pull from the larger cities of Pennsylvania, as well as those in Northern Virginia and Maryland.

_Nothing like being bloody jet-lagged after a flight in from Europe from a festival outside of touring,_ Rick thought to himself. Quietly, not to wake Sav and Joe in two of the lower bunks in his room -which were against the two walls perpendicular to his upper bunk, he climbed down the ladder to meet the ground between them and walked out into the hallway with his flashlight.

There was a conference center just a couple of blocks down the main road along the base of the mountains in the valley from the multi-stage arena complex hosting the music festival in the middle of November -in the middle of a three week break from regular touring, and Def Leppard was part of it along with four other bands. Just less than a quarter mile up the range from the two was a large mountain lodge on a vast hilltop designed to host the conference center's crowd, and with nothing in session there, it was offered as on-site accommodations for the bands attending. That was what made them opt to accept the invitation in the end. After a long strand of touring and most festivals being pure chaos, having one that could draw a good crowd that wasn't entirely insane, and on scene accommodations so that traveling into the event wouldn't require a miracle and a half to not get stuck by crowds seemed like fun. There was one disadvantage, being it was pretty much impossible to bring girls in the lodge with the arrangement of sleeping quarters, let alone encourage one up the hill from town. But with the setting being so different from the usual night on the road or in a hotel, it was more like taking a vacation from the road and not as troublesome as it would be otherwise.

There was something fun to Rick about sneaking around at night too when he couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the distraction from not being able to sleep, or the excitement of being able to see the ins and outs of a new place without a whole bunch of people buzzing around in it. And in this sort of mountain lodge, there was a lot to see for sure. 

It was up a steep hill with a gravel road from the venue that they were playing, and it had taken a few shuttle vans to get everyone and their overnight belongings up to the lodge, courtesy of the venue staff. One of the vans even got stuck after being parked too steeply off the side of the road in the grass up by the lodge, which was spongy and wet from recent rainfall, and it had taken the help of Joe and Phil, plus some of the others to get the van unstuck. Mick Brown from Dokken and Robbin Crosby from Ratt had been especially helpful in that endeavor.

Watching the four hassling around for five minutes -pushing from the front of the van and from the sides against the door frames with the doors open before it did break free made for a pretty amusing spectacle, and reason for some to question if staying in offered onsite accommodations was really worth the benefit for its troubles.

Once they'd all retrieved their overnight bags containing their essentials -mainly being a couple of changes of clothes, lounge wear for the night, personal toiletries, and for some, drugs too from the vans -and after getting the one van unstuck so it could return down the hill, they'd all gone inside the lodge. The lodge was a large building with an inviting atmosphere that seemed to lift away all doubts sprung by the van incident. Just the outside of it looked pleasant at first sight without knowing the inside.

There was a concrete porch beneath a steep overhang with a few deck chairs and a couple of small round tables in front of the main doors in the middle, making for a place to sit and look out and down the hill. From the sides of the porch, a wooden deck board style veranda extended to wrap around the front and sides of the building, ending in the back with some extension of the building on one side, and into a screened in deck on the other side. The overhang of the porch and veranda was formed by a deck that wrapped around the entire upper floor of the lodge. A deck-railed staircase on the side of the lodge led up from the veranda to the top deck circling the upper floor of the lodge that held a large, open room. From the bottom of the deck, porch swings hung down to the veranda on either side of the porch. Light fixtures were wired in, and tinted floodlights filled the lower veranda with a warm, bright glow that on a warmer night would invite hanging out on the porch until the wee hours of the morning.

A central portion of the building came out further in the front under the porch, and there were two extending hallways on either side -identified as the northeast and southwest wings. Side doors led into each wing, and a larger, central door opened to the main portion.

On each of the hallway wings were several bedrooms. Designed to host camps and conferences in the summertime of many purposes, most of them were equipped with four beds each, generally with two lofted around the corner of the room, and two along the walls with a side table between them. The only exception were the rooms on the end of each wing, which only held two low level beds. However, with the good number of rooms, everyone was able to spread out or room with whoever they chose. There were two bathrooms on each wing too. Both had a main room with a double sink counter against one wall, with cabinets under the sink stocked with towels. Off of the main room, on the two other walls not facing the hallway were doors isolating a smaller space that each held a shower and a toilet.

Rick found that particularly nice during the evening routine, because it meant everyone could take their time at the sinks without intruding on the privacy of anyone who chose to duck in to take a quick shower or relieve themselves. Which meant he wasn't being a nuisance in either place when it took him longer to go through the evening routine than most, going one-handed. He was sure that Sav found it particularly nice too, not getting nagged at by his bandmates like he often was at hotels while he stood in the mirror working a comb through his wild mass of curls -a process that often took a good fifteen minutes at the least -if Sav didn't fuss over it.

He also found everyone on his hallway -the northeast end -rather nice. Though Rick and his bandmates had chosen to go to bed earlier to try and get a handle on the jet lag from traveling overnight, from the time they had all been up together, they seemed friendly. Some four guys from a new to the scene band, Winger, and Tom Kiefer and Eric Brittingham from Cinderella. Rick had opted with Sav and Joe to room as three so that their tour assistant, Malvin Mortimer, could get his own room -and some peace and quiet from them for once. He'd gotten the one against the end of the hallway, so he would have the least noise from the surrounding hallway too. Naturally, Steve and Phil were sharing a room across the hallway from them, their rooms on either side of Mal's room on the hall end. Aside from Tom and Eric rooming together, who Rick and his bandmates had met before, Kip Winger and Reb Beach were sharing one room, and Paul Taylor and Rod Morgenstein were in the remaining one. 

Rick never had met them, but they were all very polite, and rather than partying in the hallway -like Rick knew he and his mates would have done so as they pleased at their first festival regardless of who was trying to sleep -they had gone to hang out on the veranda. It was bitterly cold out -a good fifteen degrees below freezing, and the skies were threatening with an occasional wind gust bringing down some light flurries. However, with Paul being the only one of them who hadn't grown up where the winter could get significantly cold, it was far from unbearable to them. With an extra blanket from his room draped around his shoulders and nestling in on the cushioned porch swing, Paul was set to hang out with his mates until midnight on the veranda. A couple of extra chairs pulled up from one of the porch tables, and all four were right at home.

Rick had fallen asleep to the gentle sounds of bantering and laughter on the veranda outside the window, jamming on an acoustic guitar, and some harmonized singing. If that was how they got along all the time, Rick knew Winger would be able to hold a strong relationship together through a lot as he and his mates had -even when they'd been at near blows right before his accident in a way that he couldn't imagine by what he'd seen of the four. He also hoped they never would have to deal with anything tragic or unfair even if they could take it. Only time would tell on that though.

Continuing forward in the quiet of the early morning, now out of his room and down the hall, Rick crossed the threshold in the dark where his end of the hall opened to a carpeted lounge. Sofas, a large glass window that practically spanned the ceiling to the floor -though currently covered by the curtain -and a television set that ran on the satellite when the skies were clear made for a warm, small place to hang out. Through a doorway on the other side was a huge common room where they'd all met for a short period after arriving around 9:00 to make sure everyone was on the same page with how setup down at the complex would proceed, and to have a bite to eat before breaking out to their separate groups for the night.

There was a rectangular table to one side of the common room for sitting in a larger group, as well as a few circular ones about the other side -all surrounded by chairs. Filling in the portion of the central building in the back not accounted for by the lounge was the kitchen, accessible through another side door to the back of the common room. To the front of the common room, there was a small mud room, which opened to the large, central front door.

The common room looked much different at night. It looked eerie and huge at night with nobody in it, and Rick was sure based on the time that it had probably still been buzzing with life less than an hour ago -especially considering the partying nature of his fellow lodge neighbors on the other hallway wing. Aside from some of the chairs being pulled out rather than neatly around the tables, and some used mugs on the long table, taken from the neat lineup of clean ones on a counter along the side of the room, it looked as though it had been abandoned and left. It felt twice as large too. The warm, wood panel walls typical of a mountain cabin style lodge seemed to plead to be filled with the kind of friendly banter and playing around that Rick had heard outside the closed shade of his bedroom window. He opted to go sit in the lounge instead for a while and wait for the sleepiness to return to him.

The southwest hallway extended from the other side of the common room. Jeff LaBar was rooming with Fred Coury there, as well as other two bands staying -Dokken and Ratt. George Lynch and Jeff Pilson took the small room at the end, never having minded being in close quarters with the tight friendship they had -which seemed somewhat of a blessing considering the overall tensions in the band. Don and Mick were rooming together on one of the side rooms surrounding theirs. Robbin was rooming with his guitar team partner, Warren DeMartini across the hall. Originally, Juan Croucier and Bobby Blotzer were supposed to be rooming together in one of the two remaining rooms, leaving Stephen Pearcy his own room. However, before Rick had even gone to bed much earlier around 11:30, loud arguing had broken out around so that he could hear it all the way down on the other hall. That resulted in Juan changing rooms to be with Stephen. 

From what Rick heard and could deduce from it, Juan was tired, a little cranky from being tired, and wanted to go to bed early for once. However, Bobby did not, and was being way too hyper for his tolerance. He was apparently running in and out of the bunk room, and Rick guessed that Stephen, who he could hear making plenty of a ruckus too, must have at least been staying in the common room while doing so. After a day of playing mediator between Bobby and Stephen, and having both of them fight him on everything too as well as each other, Juan wasn't having any of it.

_"For pity's sake, Bobby, you make more noise running on a carpeted floor in SOCKS than anyone else that I know! Stop running in and out of the room -stay out in the hall until you're ready to go to bed."_

_"It's my room too, you know," Bobby had reminded Juan. "And with as much noise as you make during the day prancing around in heeled boots with all that jewelry-"_

_"I don't care," Juan groaned. "Settle down, or shut up. Or go change rooms and leave me alone."_

_"Hey, I'm not the one fucking griping and making a problem -you change rooms!"_

That was all Rick could remember, as he had fallen asleep after that. It was far from the only chaos, however. Though some of it included an extension of the bickering, most of it was surprisingly friendly.

That was because he hadn't seen out an uncovered window yet, and wasn't aware of the change in weather that had taken place shortly after midnight and after he'd first drifted off.

What had been gusts of sparse flurries had suddenly broken out then into fast, bountiful snowflakes, and a good dusting already accumulating on the grass and walkways off the veranda within just a few minutes of precipitation.

...

_-FLASHBACK-_

Tom and Eric were settling in their room for the night and noticing out the window as they lay down in their beds. 

_"Hey, Eric," whispered Tom with a grin, pointing out the window next to his bed._

_Eric sat up, leaning over the side of his bed toward Tom's direction and craning his neck._

_"Damn!" he exclaimed with a light chuckle._

_"We might have some snow to wake up to tomorrow if that keeps going," Tom noted._

_Eric nodded before lying back down. "Gonna be interesting to see if that's not gonna effect the festival - or will it?"_

_"Guess we'll have to find out," said Tom with a shrug, before pulling the covers up to his nose as he often did. "Night."_

Fred was still up hanging out in the common room and would know soon enough, while Jeff was already in bed as the result of not feeling well and attempting sleep. The Winger guys were still getting ready for bed at that point. Rod, Reb, and Kip were going about the before-bed routine in the bathroom, and Paul, finished ahead of them, was changing into his night clothes in his room. That was when he got a look out the window at what was happening, and stopped mid-process, stripped down to his shirt and underwear. He bolted across the hall to stand in one of the bathroom doorways, eyes huge with excitement, still running in place while bracing himself by his hands in the doorway.

_"Hey, you all gotta look outside!"_

_Rod, who was brushing his teeth, started to laugh at Paul's wild expression and inhaled some toothpaste in the process. Instantly, he began coughing. Packing his hygiene kit back up at the other sink in the counter next to him, Kip reached over and pushed Rod forward over his sink just in time to save him from making a complete mess and slapped his back as he coughed it out._

_"Yikes, Paul; take it easy! Before Rod chokes!"_

_"No, Kip, it's snowing. Big time!"_

_Reb popped out of one of the water closets, turning the light off and closing the door behind him. "What?" he asked. "Like, real snow instead of flurries? Something that's gonna accumulate?"_

_"There's already a good white coating on the ground!" Paul sprang out into the hallway like he was going to show them, then, realizing that Rod was hung up attempting to finish brushing his teeth, spun around in the bedroom doorway and pranced back across the hall into the bathroom. He looked like a hyper puppy chasing a squirrel._

_"Alright, let's go see," said Reb, before turning to Paul jokingly and pointing back to the door he'd just come through. "You're almost getting too excited, Paul. Are you sure you don't need to go again?"_

_Rod sprayed toothpaste over his side of the sink again as everyone erupted in laughter, Paul included as a blush spread over his cheeks._

_"Reb!" Kip scolded through gasping. "Oh, goodness, we'd better hope not!"_

_"No, I'm good," Paul made out. "But I am gonna be needing ibuprofen for my stomach muscles now!"_

_"And so will I!" Rod turned around from where he was swirling water around the sink basin with his hand to wash away the toothpaste outside the range of the faucet. "Alright, let me clean this up first before I go get a look. Paul, Reb, you two are killing me!"_

_Kip playfully nudged Paul back out into the hallway. "Go finish changing while Rod cleans the sink, and then we'll go out on the porch to have a look. Matter of fact, I'll do that too. Reb, you decide if you want to wash up now or wait until after we go take a look."_

_"Whatever you do, make sure you don't try to exceed my mess-making ability!" Rod added. "I'm not even sure how I managed this."_

_"We can all finish getting ready first -it'll be easier, and then we can go outside together," Reb decided._

At the same time, the remaining crowd up in the common room and lounge were also finding out. Things had settled down from the earlier argument, and Don had gone to bed for the night, leaving Mick hanging out in the common room playing games and still talking rowdy with Bobby, Fred, Robbin, and Stephen. Coming down off a coke high with each other and desiring a quieter setting, Jeff and George had retreated to the couch by the porch window in the lounge. Warren was already in there, also having hit his limit with the noise for the night, so Jeff and George invited him to hang out together in a quieter conversation -catching up on what was going on within their bands and remarking on how hard it was to believe that just a little over a couple of years ago, they were next door in a studio and practically trading half of their lineups back and forth.

As the snow picked up, Jeff was getting up to go get dressed and ready for bed, leaving George in silence with Warren, who was curled up and half-asleep on the other side of him, facing the end of the couch. Warren had gotten ready for bed over half an hour earlier when he was feeling tired then. He had tried so hard to stay up and catch up with his mentor figure for a while longer after that, but it hadn't lasted long before it became too hard to hold his head up. George had to guess that Warren maybe managed to hold out another ten minutes before he'd lost his resolve. Truth was, George was feeling pretty sleepy himself. The comfortable and homey feeling of the setting around him was practically lulling him off, and he was seriously considering calling it a night as soon as Jeff got back to him. With Jeff having made the decision to get ready, he was probably hitting that point too and wouldn't object.

_"Guys!" Jeff hissed, springing into the common room doorway five minutes later, seemingly out of nowhere after delicately running back down the hall on the balls of his feet and in socks with hardly a noise. His slid a few inches on the hardwood floor, catching himself in the doorway, before running across to stand in the doorway between the common room and the lounge. "It's snowing outside but_ good!" __

_"How much?" Fred looked up eagerly._

_"You're joking, right?" asked Bobby, being a little less sure as to start celebrating before knowing what the situation was._

_"I don't think it's been going long, but it's coming down fast and gathering up on the ground!" Jeff went running into the mud room, and the outside door clicked open as he went running outside._

_George jumped up from the couch and ran out the door too, to stand on the porch. Jeff was standing out on the hill top stretching out in front of the lodge, arms stretched out to his sides in pure bliss, catching snowflakes in his hands._

_"Jeff!" he cried, looking out from beneath the overhang incredulously at Jeff, who was covered only a short sleeved t-shirt and thin lounge pants. "Are you serious? Get back inside; it's freezing!"_

But then, gleeful whooping down on the other end of the veranda past the porch caught George's attention, and he turned his head to see the side door down there swing open and another figure go running out on the hilltop in a similar manner to Jeff. It was Kip, and he was wearing athletic shorts as opposed to long pants from what George could see. He also didn't look to even be wearing socks. Which almost entirely invalidated George's concern at Jeff being outside without snow gear on when he wasn't putting bare feet in contact with the accumulation.

He saw Kip run back up on the veranda then and caught parts of sentences having to do with getting in bed and aiming to see if they'd have some time to have fun in it before the festival time if it accumulated before they went back inside. Turning around, at first he didn't see Jeff and started to panic, only to let out a yelp as Jeff sneaked up behind him and caught him in a bear hug.

_"Stop," George scolded, trying to force back a smile, but unable to hide the affectionate tone in his voice. "You're not allowed to butter me up after scaring me like that. Back inside!"_

_Jeff just giggled, shaking snowflakes out of his hair as he reentered the lounge from the mud room._

_"For real!" Bobby demanded. "I can't believe it."_

_Stephen leaned over the couch with one foot up on the couch for leverage and pulled back the curtain over the long window, climbing over top of Warren_

_"Ya think ya better believe it's for real now?" Stephen retorted loudly at Bobby. "You really think he'd say it and get that wound up if he didn't mean it?"_

Warren gave a soft whimper and looked up at Stephen out from under a lock of hair brushed over his eyes with confusion. His hazy, disoriented state rendered him unable to process what was happening around him well enough to understand what the commotion was all about, and he wasn't sure whether it was a good or bad thing that he didn't know. Especially having somebody braced over top of him, which didn't look like the safest thing for him from his angle, or the most comfortable considering he was going to get a knee in either the stomach, groin, or worse if Stephen slipped. But as he heard Bobby start yelling back at Stephen and their voices getting louder, he decided it was probably better that he didn't know, and in turn grabbed one of the couch pillows and buried his face in it.

_Let's put the curtain back for the night and not start shouting, okay?" warned Mick. "Don's not gonna be too pleased if he gets woken up, and I'm sure he's not alone in that."_

__

__

"Their problem, not mine," Stephen snorted, pulling the curtain shut.

_"No, please, don't wake him up either -_ please _," George groaned. "Everything's been perfectly fine in here up until now, but I guarantee you, it's gonna be a shit storm if he comes in here because he's gotta make a problem out of everything."_

_"George, you're really talking to him about making a problem out of everything?" Bobby demanded._

_"Oh, really, Blotz?!"_

_"Guys, calm the fuck down, please," Robbin warned, holding his hands up as he came back into the lounge from the common room. "We're in here to have a good time, not trash talk each other. This here is no good. Not fun. Calm down."_

_Mick met Robbin with a nervous, sidelong glance. "Yeah, if this continues much longer, I'm gonna be outta here -party's over for me if I'm gonna be watching a fight!"_

_George went over to the couch and pulled the pillow away from Warren._

_"Torch? Alright, kid, you don't need to be trying to hang out here any longer -we'll have a little more time to see each other tomorrow. You're done for tonight. Party's already been long over for you."_

_"No, you don't have to worry about doing that, George; I got it. I'll take care of him." Robbin came up behind George and Warren, and whisked the latter off toward their room._

_Stephen ran after, but turned off at the first door going into his room with Juan, all but busting the door open so the latch wrenched with a squeaking noise and the door made loud impact with the wall behind it._

_"Holy shit! It's building up even faster on the hill out back and whipping the trees around like a full storm," he hollered, getting a good look outside as he yanking the cord on the blinds so that they all but flew up with a loud _spriiiing!_ and metallic clacking as the slats slammed into each other. Had he pulled any harder, they'd have come down from their anchor for sure. _

_"And damned if the crew doesn't drive up here and make us have to wake up early for set up because of it-"_

_Juan sat up in bed, having clearly been woken out of a sound sleep by all the racket. He wasn't pleased about it either, and ten times as cranky as he'd been before going to sleep._

_"Stephen,_ what _in the_ hell?! _Are you serious?" he moaned, covering his face with his hands and squinting against the light from the open hall door. "Thanks, A LOT. You know, I wonder why it is that I can't get one minute of peace on tour, and it always has to do with you or Blotz."_

_"Alright, that's enough," Mick declared. He booked it from the lounge, through the common room, down the hall, and into his room with Don as if it were a storm shelter and the tornado sirens were going off._

_"George, can we go to bed now so we can get up earlier if enough accumulates to run around in it before the show?" Jeff pleaded, coming up behind him and putting his chin on George's shoulder. Despite how hyper he was with his delight from the snow, George had seen him getting the droopy, sleepy eyes he got right when he was going to crash -and considering they'd done coke earlier, he was going to crash harder than Warren had._

_"Yes, we can." George grabbed hold of Jeff endearingly and guided him back to their room._

By that point, the commotion had become plenty audible to Jeff LaBar in his room, who was also very tired and attempting to sleep. Though, unlike Juan, he hadn't actually fallen asleep after an hour of trying, and rather than being cranky, he was desperate -and scolding everyone for it in the opposite manner which Juan had.

_"Hey, you guys?" he asked, poking his head around his door frame with a pained expression. "I'm really nervous lately, I haven't been sleeping well the past couple of nights, I'm really, really tired and I'm trying to sleep before we have to get up relatively early with this being a late afternoon festival. I'm fine if you all are having a normal good time, but hearing you all fight is really making a struggle out of it. So if you guys could all please quiet your argument down, or maybe just end it and go the fuck to bed, I'd really appreciate it."_

Robbin was just emerging then from his bedroom after seeing to it that Warren made it into his bunk before he completely crashed. A minute later after the commotion broke up with everyone deciding the fun for the night was over, he was down the hall in Jeff's room kneeling on the floor by his lower bunk, whispering soft, comforting inanities, trying to help him calm down.

_"I'm sorry," Jeff murmured, lying flat in his back, arm draped over his face. He was breathing heavily and broken out in a cold sweat, heart pounding a mile a minute._

_"No, no, buddy, you don't have to apologize. It's okay," whispered Robbin, putting one hand on Jeff's shoulder and using the other to brush Jeff's mass of hair away from his face. "If anything, I'm sorry you feel so worked up. But you know you didn't cause the problem if you were in here -you can't help that. Everyone else is okay, and so are you. See, I'm here -I wouldn't be in here if I was upset. Nobody's upset with you, and you just gotta relax now."_

_"I just don't want to be out of it tomorrow and let anyone down, you know?"_

_"And you're not gonna let anyone down. If there's anyone here who needs to worry about that, it's not you, Jeff. You just forget about everything except playing what you enjoy and having a good time, okay?" Robbin reached over and opened the blinds on the window by the bed so that the effect of getting closed in on lifted._

_"Now, you wanna take a look at what's happening outside?"_

_A light smile curled Jeff's lips, and some of the tension seizing his body seemed to release its stronghold._

_"It's a snowstorm," he murmured. "Snow flying around everywhere, just like it sometimes did back home. Not that we're too far from it."_

_"Yeah, home's just right up the road, isn't it?" Robbin smiled playfully. "I never grew up with snow around me like you did, but it is nice to watch. You want to leave the blinds open? I don't think Fred'll mind."_

_Jeff nodded his head against the pillow. "Oh, he won't -he'll sleep through anything when he crashes. Did you ever watch anything instead of snow, King?"_

_Robbin chuckled._

_"It's been a really long time. Last time was '83. There were a couple of nights where Torch was feeling real homesick after the gigs and the parties would settle down -I should say on the times we weren't passed out after that, and we would get by the window and watch cars passing by on the street outside. Best we could do in California; we don't get much rain, let alone snow there."_

_Jeff smirked. His breathing was coming back down to a normal rhythm, and his eyes that were wide with panic before now gazed sleepily out the window. "True. It doesn't snow at all there. I miss watching snow as often as I used to."_

_"Well, you got some tonight," said Robbin, stroking Jeff's hair again. "Come to think of it, I miss doing this with the cars back in LA too."_

_Jeff heaved a contented sigh and lay silently then, zoning out as his eyelids progressively drooped lower and lower until they closed._

Robbin stayed with him until the anxiety settled the rest of the way and Jeff dropped into heavy sleep. Then, he turned off the lamp on the side table between the two lower bunks and exited as quietly as he could.

_"Everyone out here good?" he asked, coming out and running into Fred, approaching the bedroom._

_"Yeah, just getting a little tired, and I think the others are getting ready to go to bed too. Bobby just got done and went in his room for the night, and Stephen's still in the bathroom getting ready."_

_"Guess we're done with the party tonight then," Robbin concluded. "Alright, then, I'll see you tomorrow -big day tomorrow. Careful when you go in just to make sure you don't wake up Jeff."_

_Fred grinned before turning the doorknob slow and deliberately, closing it in the same manner to minimize the sound of the latch clicking. Not long after, the lodge settled into peaceful silence within the darkness of the night._

...

Rick watched the clock on a shelf in the lounge tick its way around to 3:30. Finally, he began to feel the effect of the night around him override his internal clock that was still set so far ahead, and the desire to sleep returning to him. Getting up from the couch, he began making his way back down the hall to his room.

He jumped as then one of the bathroom doors ahead of his path opened swiftly, catching him by surprise in the dark. Rod Morgenstein emerged, also flinching when he turned and saw Rick -or more likely, heard Rick gasp.

"Aw, shoot, kid -I didn't mean to scare ya!"

"That's alright, mate -uh, Rod?"

"Yeah, and you're Rick Allen, right?"

"Yes."

"Rick, did you see outside?" asked Rod.

"Before I went to bed earlier, I did. I could see there were some light flurries out earlier, but nothing big. What, is it snowing now, mate?"

Rod smiled in a way that seemed guaranteed to turn one's cheeks sore and made Rick feel like smiling too.

"Come'ere," he whispered, walking forward to point down the small hallway between bedrooms leading to the exterior door on the wing. "Look here; look outside."

Rick went down the path to the door and peeped out the window embedded in it. He let off a small gasp before turning around, hand pressed over his mouth and a light giggle bubbling out of him. "Bloody h-!"

"Woah, keep it down!" Rod laughed through a whisper too.

Snow was swirling in windblown clouds in the air, and there had to be at least a foot of it accumulated already from when it had started just three hours ago.

"And I'm thinking that's probably half of what we're gonna get at the rate it's coming down too," Rod whispered.

"What?" Rick murmured, motioning to the door incredulously as if to ask how on Earth was normal set up going to work in a foot of snow. Especially when not all of their equipment had been flown in, and the chances of the airport being able to land a plane in this weren't great.

"Yeah, I get the feeling tomorrow's going to be interesting. Might want to get back to bed and rest up for it. Heading that way now. I'll see you in the morning, Rick." Rod went back to his room, cautiously closing his door so he didn't wake Paul up when the latch clicked shut.

Rick had to resist a giggle of excitement bubbling up in his chest. He ran back to his room, climbing up the ladder to his bunk and settling in with a big smile on his face.

He already had a good feeling what tomorrow was going to be like if his suspicions were right about the roadways. And though there was a little disappointment in that, he also knew that they were going to have immense, unsuspected fun.

_...And I can't wait!_ he thought before drifting back off to sleep.


	2. Snowmaggedon It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when five bands at a venue set for a music festival get snowed in by a storm that cancels the performance too? Everyone there has the wildest snow day of their lives! (Extremely Fluffy Crackfic)

Tom Keifer opened his eyes to a bright light coming in the window beside the bed, soft warmth from the baseboards along the wall, and the pleasant sensation of being well rested. It wasn't something he felt too often when he was often screamed out of bed by an alarm or a tour manager, sometimes hungover depending on how wild the night before had been. It was also rare that he woke up with his surroundings so quiet, even when he was the first of his bandmates to wake up on most days that he did get up on his own. No road noise and banter from nights spent on the bus; no hotel noises, loud air vents and such from nights off the road -just silence. Nothing broke the silence but the sound of his sheets rustling and the deep yawn he took as he sat up and stretched before resting his arm on the windowsill and turning to look down the hillside behind the lodge.

Everything was coated in thick, fluffy snow. The sky still held some grey, smooth clouds, but they were broken through with some of the brightest, stark-blue patches that seemed far more intense than on the average day without the colors of the rest of the world blocked out by the white and able to compete with it. The sun reflected off the accumulation in dazzling brightness. 

The sunlight pulled in through the glass left a glowing warmth in front of the window against Tom's cheek, but when he made contact with the window, it was soothing and cold to the touch.

He looked across the room at Eric, still sound asleep in his bed, and then to his watch. 10:00 o'clock. If the lodge was silent and there wasn't noise coming from the complex down the hill already while the PA systems were getting tested by the crews with all the snow out on the ground and in the trees, it told him enough that they probably weren't going to have to worry about getting ready for a show in a few hours.

"Wow..." Tom whispered aloud to nothing but the silence of the lodge around him.

Usually, being snowed in was an undesirable thing. There was an unmistakable difference in what it meant to be snowed in to where leaving home wasn't an option whatsoever compared to when it was an possible and most just chose not to until the roads were more navigable. Often times, the former of the two led to stir craziness and bad moods after awhile, followed by people doing rather foolish things to entertain themselves.

However, being the quiet type he was, Tom never had minded being snowed in through his childhood, nor did he mind it now. When the roads were shut down, there was something peaceful about the atmosphere. The world surrounding him was cold, but softened -giving him a safe haven to be a little more silly without getting judged back then, and now, a safe haven to kick back and relax with his guitar and take things at a slower, creative pace rather than running wild with it.

Quietly, so not to wake Eric up, Tom climbed out of bed to retrieve his clothes and hygiene kit from his bag, then took them into the bathroom. Five minutes later, he emerged dressed and ready for an average, cold winter day rather than one on tour, and after stopping in the mud room to get on his shoes, gloves, and coat, he was through the door and standing on the porch. 

Out of curiosity, he continued around the veranda. The overhang kept the walkway clear of snow -until he arrived at the base of the steps up to the top deck. Tom almost felt bad when he decided to go up and get a better look at the land down the hill, being the first to break the pristine snow on those steps before anyone else had seen it, but figured that there was plenty of other snow out on the hills, and he wasn't going out there alone without others up and aware that he was straying from the lodge just for safety reasons. They didn't have to see the untouched snow on the deck with all the rest of it.

The top deck's overhang from the upper floor room didn't cover the whole deck, so there was lots of snow up there too. Tom hopped over the deepest ridge of snow where it had avalanched off the shallow, curved roof of the upper floor and stood along the side of the building where there wasn't any, minimizing how much of it he disturbed. From there, he walked around the building, first looking down the back, southeast hill and then to the northeast hill they'd come up by. There was nothing of the road to be seen aside from the line of flags marking it to direct private, visiting vehicles up to the lodge. Everything ran together along the hills.

 _There's no way this is happening today with it like this,_ he realized, going back down the steps and inside to see what was going on. Stomping his boots out at the base of the steps and taking them off at the door, he went to the common room, finding a hot coffee pot and electric water kettle on the side counter, along with a note from Malvin.

_Good day to all of you,_

_I'm in my room down at the end of the hall working things out between management and event staff to figure out what's going to happen after today in regards to this festival. Not only does the inclement weather make postponing necessary for the safety of attendees, but not all of our gear was unable to fly in from England, and some of the power lines going to the venue are down. If you need me, come get me. I made some coffee and water for tea for the first of you all up, and there are supplies to make more out in the kitchen later on as it runs out or goes stale. There's also food in the cabinets and the fridge the event staff stocked us with that you all can help yourselves to like last night. I shall keep you all posted when we find out more from your managers and from road crews._

_-Mal._

Tom immediately grabbed one of the coffee mugs stacked on the end of the counter and fixed himself his dose of morning caffeine he could hardly function without most days. This was a rare day he felt he could have gone without it, but it was habitual, and with the weather the way it was, there was something about a hot drink in hand that completed the peaceful sensation. He drew back the curtain on the large lounge window so the bright sunlight reflecting off the snow crystals flooded the room, and curled up on the couch to take in the sweet, nostalgic feeling for the five minutes he had of it all to himself.

The first thing to break the silence was the sound of a door opening down on the northeast hallway. Then a loud clatter. Phil had knocked over the ladder in his room with Steve when they'd decided to horse around some while waking up and getting dressed. The ladder, although sturdy, was designed to hook onto the frame of the top bed so it could be moved. When Phil tripped and backed into it at the right angle, it got pushed up, unhooked, and it fell.

Low gasps of _"Oh, shit, you okay mate?"_ , followed by concerned murmurs as to whether the ladder had damaged the wall, and finally muted laughter that signaled it hadn't followed.

"Bloody hell, that was a close one!" Phil laughed down the hall before his voice faded out as he and Steve ducked into the bathroom. 

There was than a minute of silence before another door burst open, as Rick had heard the ladder crash down -and seeing how much more snow had fallen from between the slats of the blinds, which was about as much as Rod had predicted, he was wide awake and flipping out over it.

"Joe! Sav!" Rick jumped down from his bunk, not even bothering with the ladder. He landed on his feet in a low crouch with a heavy thud from the floorboards beneath the carpet. "Wake up! Wake up! Look outside!"

Sav groaned and sat up, sticking a finger between the slats and lifting one to get a better look.

"Fucking hell -I'm surprised Mal didn't wake us up earlier panicking over this," he muttered.

"Do we have to get up?" Joe groaned. "And what was that noise before you jumped down, Rick?"

Rick tore through the door and ran out in the hall, provoking a light yelp from Steve as he was exiting the bathroom with Phil.

"Hold on before we go outside, mate. Steve and I knocked down our ladder, and now we gotta put it back!"

Joe stepped out in the hall behind Rick, scowling as he pushed back the messy blond tresses hanging in his face. He'd taken his shirt off and had a pair of jeans slung over his arm, midway through changing.

"Ah, great going, Phil! Ya woke up and made a racket, Rick is running around the place, an' now I might as well get up, because if I had any hope of sleeping a tad longer-"

"Cripes, Joe; not so loud!" Steve winced, not being one for any kind of yelling around him upon waking up, even on the rare day like today which he wasn't entirely hung over.

Tom stuck his head down the hall from the lounge doorway. "Yeah, you guys? Keep it down, please," he warned. "Kip and his mates are still asleep, and so's Eric."

 _And even though he doesn't usually sleep in too late, heaven forbid you wake Eric up before he's ready if he has the choice,_ Tom silently added. While Eric was often the typical laid back bass player who didn't really get worked up or stay angry over much, he was quite capable of being irked into giving a dry, sarcastic tongue lashing that wasn't entirely pleasant. Waking him up without necessity might have been the easiest way to bring out his surly side.

Joe sighed and ducked back through his door to finish getting dressed.

"Mal?" asked Sav, knocking on the door at the hall end in hopes of finding out what the situation was. Malvin opened the door a crack, pointed to the phone he held to his ear, and closed it before Sav could eek out a word.

"He left a note in the common room for everyone, Sav," Tom cut in. "It's not certain if it's cancelled or postponed. Guess he's still trying to find that out, but nobody's going on today.

"Well then," said Phil, springing a naughty grin with a sidelong glance toward Steve, "Looks like we've got ourselves a day to do whatever we want."

"And that means a day in the snow!" Rick whooped, barreling back down the hall to his room to get dressed.

"Rick, _shhhh!!"_ Sav hissed, slapping his hand down on his knee to emphasize how serious his shushing was. "Quiet the bloody hell down!"

"Is there anything in the common room for us?" moaned Joe, rubbing his eyes and only just starting to come back to his normal senses.

Tom chuckled. "Go in to the back counter and read Mal's note with what he knows for sure. There's coffee and hot water to make tea with out in there -tea is still in that closet by the cabinet like last night, and there's plenty to eat too if you go in the kitchen."

"So, Mal emerged earlier. Were you up when he did?" asked Phil.

"No, but he left a pretty lengthy note, and the rest of it I can figure by looking outside. Nice view from up on top of the deck, I gotta say. You can see to where we came in from with the vans. I'm probably gonna go for a more extensive walk in a bit to see what else is going on out there when we have more people up."

"Can you see the stage in all the snow?" asked Sav.

"Yeah, you can. It's all covered, but you can make out the complex from the top deck if you know where to look just right." Tom shrugged. "I can show you if you want to see it."

Pushing back his chair, Sav almost spontaneously stood up, picking up his tea mug and looking toward Tom expectantly, who went out to the porch.

"Feeling curious this morning, mate?" Joe looked up from his mug of tea with a grin, now definitely feeling human again.

"Name a time we've been snowed in at a place like this!" Sav challenged, before running out on the porch to catch up. He walked down the veranda and climbed the exterior stairs, following Tom's lead up to the deck, feeling odd in realizing he hadn't noticed last night that the stairs were right on the outside of his room, along with many other tiny details about the exterior of the lodge. From the height of the deck at the northern corner, Sav and Tom looked over the railing and down to the stage complex, which the shape of could faintly be made out in the snow, as well as the shape of busses and trailers in the lot around it.

"Well, I suppose I can see why they can't get the equipment through. I can't even see a road. Let alone know how they'd land a plane in this," said Sav.

"Yeah, and I don't think we'd be going on even if you guys did have it. There's no way people could safely get in here." Tom looked down again to the complex.

"And with lines down and being iced up, I've got to question how they're going to get power back by tomorrow. They might postpone until the day after, but beyond that they'll probably cancel the whole thing if the road's impassible to get in and fix it."

"Well, Mal said that only some of the lines were down. Depending on how bad it is, they might be able to bypass the downed lines if it's only some. And they could be fine but just not working right because the ice is too heavy on them right now. We'll find out." Tom started back down the deck toward the stairs. "If they only postpone until tomorrow, they have to tell us tonight so we can get ready. It is possible -this is an area where we get a lot of snow here in Pennsylvania, so our transportation department and electric companies have a lot of equipment to clean this kind of mess up. Anyway, I'm going to see what's around the corner of the veranda where the building extends. Because the inside doesn't go that far, and we've got time to be curious about it now."

Sav followed Tom down the stairs, deciding that he was curious to see too.

The snowfall had outlined places on the walls that stuck out, and the first thing Tom noticed now that he hadn't in the waning sunlight at arrival time was that there was a large, wooden door on the side of that extension, like the door one would find on a tool shed.

Sav walked up to it, noting the large hinge and the latch. It was in the style of one that ordinarily would have a padlock in it, but was left unlocked.

"Is that the garage? Or I guess you would call it a shed, since it's not flat on the ground for putting vehicles in."

"Not sure. Let me see if we can open it." Tom inspected the latch, and seeing it wasn't secured in some other way, pulled it open.

Sav gasped. "What's all this?"

"Hey!" Tom perked up, shy smile spreading across his features as he found a light switch inside the door and flicked it on to better reveal the contents. "Well, this is neat. Sav, you're gonna have to tell your mates about this, and I'm gonna have to tell everyone else. Looks like they're plenty aware of the snow up here for other people who would usually stay here. Look at this."

There were five sleds stacked on the ground, and a sixth up in the rafter that was potentially accessible if a few of them helped each other -each long enough to take up to three people on it. There were also a number of snowboards up against the wall hard to know for sure with some tucked behind others, and a couple of inner tubes that were still properly inflated with the cold. Those, while possible to use in snow, were probably better for the creek further up the range behind the lodge in warmer conditions, but Tom took note of them.

He stepped in and looked inside a cloth sack to see what was in it, and found several pairs of gloves inside them. They were thin, standard cloth gloves that would get soaked through faster than their own weatherproof gloves they had, but Tom was happy to see them.

"These are a good thing," he murmured quietly to himself, finding a bin with a lid on it behind the sack. "Hello, what's this...?" Further inspection by lifting the lid exposed goggles for sledding -which he knew would also be helpful in steeper hills and dealing with snow getting kicked up.

"I'm going to ask Mal to call and see if it's alright to use this stuff, but I'm sure as long as we put it back when we're done it's allowed," decided Sav. "Best keep quiet and not tell Rick or our Terror Twins before we find out though, or everything in here is going be out whether it is alright or not!"

"It probably is, but you'd be wise to. And as long as we don't break it either. I am taking these gloves for us today if nothing else." Tom picked up the bag, stepped out of the shed, and pushed the door toward closed, but leaving it just slightly ajar. "More than enough to go around, and if anyone wants to stay out really long, they might need to swap for these if theirs get soaked through and need to dry out."

"We can keep count of who takes them -that way we know how many we need to find out of it before putting it back," Sav suggested as they walked back around. He stopped at the side door, intent on going in there. "I'll take care of asking Mal."

Tom gave Sav a thumbs up before continuing to the mud room, leaving the sack of gloves in there.

By the way which Mal came down the hall twenty minutes later as his five were cleaning up their breakfast plates in the kitchen, followed by asking them to come down to his room while he discussed some of his own rules and conditions with them. Tom easily guessed it was that the shed was free game as long as no one did anything stupid. A few more minutes later after they'd all geared up and headed outside, seeing them passing by the window outside and dragging two sleds to the northeast hill confirmed it. It was going to be an extra fun day.

This time, it was almost half an hour Tom got in the quiet. He moved to the common room and enjoyed the rest of his coffee and a bagel and some fruit from the selection in the kitchen before quietly retrieving his acoustic guitar from his room. Settling back into a chair by one of the side tables, he started tapping his fingers lightly against the frets so that just a hint of sound came out without being audible outside of the room, searching for inspiration.

He was stalling after contemplating a few lines to save for later when he heard doors on the northeast hall beginning to open and close again with hushed murmuring, and he sat up straighter, trying to see if Eric was going to look around the corner into the lounge for him. If Eric was up, he would when he saw Tom was already out.

He didn't. Tom looked back to his guitar and continued thinking until soft footsteps finally stopped, sounding close to the doorway.

"Well, good morning, Tom. I see you already broke out the writing for the day?" 

The soft, monotonous voice in the doorway easily told Tom who the newly emerged lodge mate was, mainly because there was only one person in the lodge with a speaking tone more monotonous than that of Jeff LaBar and himself. Kip Winger.

"Hey!" he turned around to greet Kip back. "Alright, I know of everyone here -even if this is postponed, because it is -you're probably the most excited over this here."

"Oh, you bet." Kip beamed, walking over to inspect Mal's note and proceeding to help himself to a mug of coffee. "I love it, waking up to this. Reminds me of back home. Not as steep or windy, but the same general pattern. Mountains make some of the best snowfall."

Tom nodded. "We get snow in Philly, but usually not like here up in the mountains with all the wind current. Still is nice to see a good snowfall though -been enjoying the nostalgia too."

Kip pulled back a chair and sat down at the table across from Tom. "It's a little conflicting to us, because this is our first festival and it would be a shame if it gets canceled, but I'd say if it does, it's not a complete loss with what's outside."

"Hey, it's not over something stupid, at least."

"And it's not a bad reason at all, actually." Kip smirked. "Might not be safe for people to come in on these roads, but it is safe to have fun in the snow, Paul's already hyper to go out, and I am too. Funny thing is, last night we were hoping to maybe get a little bit of time if something accumulated before the show-"

"You guys really don't have to worry about time at all now!" laughed Tom.

"-No, we don't! We can go out in it all day as long as we want. Once everyone's up and ready, that is. Anyone else already make it outside?"

Tom pointed down the hall. "I only walked around the deck and the veranda, but Def Leppard went out about half an hour ago, and I think they went exploring down the big hill, so they'll be out for awhile. Kind of expected they'd get up early, since they're set on an earlier time than us. With you all getting up, our whole end of the hallway is almost up now. Just waiting on Eric."

"Technically not, we're only just all starting to wake up, really -Paul and I got up first, Rod and Reb aren't up yet." Kip shook his head. "Actually, it's more along the lines of I'm up and dressed, Paul's getting dressed, Rod was starting to climb out of bed when I turned down the hall, and Reb asked for ten more minutes in bed and probably is going to sneak a few more."

"Well," started Tom in a sarcastic tone, "I guess I can figure out who your late riser is." 

"Paul's _supposedly_ going to get him up once he's dressed and finished in the bathroom." Kip's mouth curled up in a smirk. "He may end up asking me for help on that. Reb isn't usually too enthusiastic to part with his pillow in the morning, even if he is excited for what comes afterward."

He neglected to speak the implied bit that waking Reb up was not usually Paul's department, and Paul was probably having a harder time than he or Rod would have had.

"Yeah, I think anyone in a band knows how that goes." Tom gave a rueful, sidelong glance down the hall out from under his bangs as the sound of a closer bedroom door opening floated down the hall, and he stole a glance through the doorways to check and see who it was. "Look's like Eric's actually getting up now too, which is funny, because usually he's our late one."

"And I take it everyone else in the other end of the hallway is still asleep, including your other two? I haven't seen any sign of them, so unless I missed it-."

"No, none of them have emerged. I get the feeling Jeff'll be up soon though, unless if he managed to stay asleep through the night and is still asleep instead of lying awake for hours to hear someone else get up." Tom shrugged. "And by that I mean my Jeff, but all things considered, Jeff Pilson will probably be one of the first of those guys we'll see too."

"Paul did say he's an energetic one," Kip agreed. "By what I've heard, it wouldn't surprise me at all." 

"And Fred may or may not be up soon. Based on other experiences, he'll get up quick when he realizes there's snow, but I know he was hanging out with some of our friends who'll stay up really late. They seemed tired last night, so they may not have stayed up as late as usual, but I definitely haven't heard a peep out of anyone yet.

"Hey, Kip?" called Paul from down the hall. "A little help in here, please!"

Kip grinned, getting up from the table. "Alright, now don't tell me I didn't call it!" He went to the front sink by the counter and rinsed the last bit of his coffee down the drain, deciding he was finished with it.

"You did," Tom conceded. "I wasn't doubting it either -I'm surprised Eric's actually out of bed!"

"I'm not complaining though." Kip paused in the doorway to the lounge. "We'll still have plenty of time once I get him up -it's no worry. Are you heading out when yours are?"

"I might, but I know Mal might need some help, and I don't mind hanging out inside, so I'll probably be hanging out in here keeping things in order unless they ask me to come outside."

"Well, you know, make sure you give yourself a chance to enjoy it too. If nobody else wants to let you off the hook for a bit and you wanna run out in it, you can come get one of us to sit in for you a little while. Anyway, I'll see you later, Tom -I gotta go help Paul tell Reb that it's up time." With that, Kip went down the hall and around the doorway that led into the room he'd shared with Reb overnight.

Paul was tugging on the bottom of Reb's blankets, sporting an evil grin as Reb held the top of the blankets and the sheet in a death grip, fighting Paul's effort with all of his strength. He tried to flatten himself against the wall too, making it so he was as far from getting up as possible.

Kip held up a hand to Paul for him to stop, then, folding back the side of the blankets closer to the edge of the bed, he lifted them up to pull them off of Reb, gently and unthreatening. 

Reb glanced up at Kip from under his bangs.

"Kip?" he murmured through a yawn.

Kip sat down on the edge of the bed and playfully poked Reb's shoulder. For effect, he heavily enunciated each syllable he spoke -still in that gentle monotone that made it seem more affectionate than it would from anyone else.

"All-right, Reb; it is time to _get, up!_ You asked for ten minutes extra, and it's been over fifteen."

"Saying I've had enough?" asked Reb, slowly lifting his head and pushing sleep-mussed hair out of his face to reveal a sleepy-eyed grin.

"Sounds about right. You said yesterday that you hoped we had some time to have fun in the snow with everything going on. That's been postponed, so we have the whole day. But you gotta get up first. Unless you've changed your mind and you're giving the rest of us permission to go out without you -we're not going out until you're up otherwise."

Reb sat up and shook his head.

"No," he yawned as he stretched out and slid his legs over the edge of the bed, slowly pushing himself off to stand. "I'm up."

"Alright then, let's get ready. Before Paul starts bouncing off the walls like last night and tries to make Rod choke again!"

"Oh, sure; you two!" Paul ducked out of the room, blushing as Reb snickered from Kip's remark. He was soon followed as Reb left to go about the morning routine.

By this point, Eric was finally meeting Tom in the common room.

"You're up!" declared Tom as though it were some miracle.

"Yeah, and you've decided to play 'Captain Obvious'," Eric cracked, going to the coffee pot on the back counter, picking up a mug, and filling it.

Tom smirked. "I'm probably gonna be 'co-Captain Hold the Fort Down' too if Mal asks for help."

Eric shrugged and sat down at the table before playing it back. "Snow day off?"

"Yep, because they've got power lines down and roads blocked up. Can't properly get ready in it."

Eric stirred his coffee and sat down next to Tom, going silent. Tom sat back, knowing he wasn't going to say much again until he was caffeinated.

Malvin came in and stopped in the doorway.

Tom looked up to identify the footsteps. "There you are!"

"Yes, good morning to you too." Malvin held his hands up, looking overwhelmed like a person trying to do ten things at once. "Listen, please. I'm passing it on just in case you all haven't seen my note -no show today. They're hoping to postpone it either until tomorrow or the day after if need be -looks more to be the latter, but the sun is quite bright and the city is on those plows, so don't be too surprised if tomorrow is a go, depending on equipment coming in and the electricity. The venue staff is coming up shortly -like in the next few minutes -with some extra supplies for dealing with the snow for us, and some cocoa -I guess they've got a vehicle that can get through this. They're coming later this evening around five o'clock too with a larger capacity, so if you all have things on your buses you would like -extra clothes, movies for the TV upstairs, supplies if you want to use the laundry room upstairs -make a list for me to call and relay to them earlier so you can have it sent up. They'll let us know by then what the situation with the delay is. And basically, in regards to the snow up here -since there's nowhere for anyone to be and I can't have you all in here all day turning into stir-crazy hooligans -go outside and have at it as much as you all like! Mine already are."

"I saw them heading out to the front with a sled, so I know they're having a wild time," Tom admitted, standing up to cross the room as he decided to get seconds on coffee. "By the way, I saw there were towels in the storage cabinet in here -you think it'd be a good idea to put some by the door so the mat in the mud room isn't waterlogged between everyone?"

"Yes, please. That would be very helpful, Tom. I'll do that on the side doors too -just in case if we get traffic through those too. You know, if somebody else wants to go put on an extra layer of clothes, change clothes, needs the loo..." Malvin trailed off from his ramble.

"Sounds like a plan." Tom set his cup down to go help Malvin 'snow-proof' the lodge.

Eric laughed, starting to come back to life. "You weren't kidding about holding the fort down either, Tom!"

"Nope, I wasn't," said Tom. "And when I get the towels down, I'm gonna go in the kitchen and make more coffee for everyone, because it's starting to run low."

"True." Eric looked to the side and eyed the coffee pot. " _Holy smokes_ , we'd actually better get some more coffee made now before everyone else starts getting up -I'll go get that. Probably want to make it in something larger than that, because half of us in this lodge are gonna be cold too," he groaned, running into the kitchen.

"See what's in there that we can use. I think they have a tank dispenser for it we can fill up. I'll help you out there in just a moment," called Tom from the mud room, laying down towels and tucking them under the edges of the mat so they didn't stick up and create a tripping hazard. "If they've got another tank, we should make hot water in that in case if anyone wants tea, since some of us here do that instead. And Mal said they're bringing hot chocolate mix -that'll do there too."

"Good idea."

"Hey, Tom?" asked Malvin, coming into the common room.

"Yeah?"

"Just wanted to let you know, I still am going to be working things out on the phone most of the day, but I'm going to also go out and sweep the porch every now and then for where everyone tracks on it to try and keep more getting tracked in here than there will be. So if anyone's looking for me and I'm not in my room, come find me outside."

"I can help you with that too if you get real busy, Mal," offered Tom, "but thanks man. Seriously, you're the best." He now wholeheartedly understood why he'd heard Joe say in the past that Malvin was one of their greatest blessings aside from Rick's recovery and Mutt Lange.

"Good morning!" Now Rod was entering the common room, leading ahead of the three of his bandmates and greeting Mal and Tom with his big grin. He hung back with Kip while Paul and Reb went to look out the lounge window

"Interesting morning," quipped Eric, sticking his head out of the kitchen door. "There should be enough drinks left for you all, but I got more coming in a moment."

"Yeah, I'm helping him with that." Tom excused himself into the kitchen to help Eric out, and Rod followed him to grab something to snack on.

"Special delivery!" Paul sang, prancing to the doorway and pointing out the lounge window as a small, bright orange ATV equipped to handle snow with Kubota logos stopped at the hilltop, and a couple of staff members were coming across toward the lodge with some boxes.

"Well, now we have extra towels, hot chocolate, and whatever else they're bringing." Malvin went to the door to greet them. "Wonder what else they have, since they've got it boxed up."

Reb sprang a grin and all but trotted back into the kitchen to sit down next to an amused Kip.

"Mal, you just made his morning when you said 'hot chocolate'."

Eric stuck his head through the kitchen doorway again. "Hey, I can't blame him!"

"Oh, wait until Rick Allen gets back inside." Malvin was wrestling one of the boxes inside the door. Paul quickly ran to help him get the other ones before rejoining Kip, Reb, and Rod at one of the round tables to share a quick breakfast they'd gotten from the kitchen.

Mal inspected the box contents, setting two good sized tins of cocoa on the back counter where they had hot drink paraphernalia already set up, then brought in a stack of blankets from the larger of the boxes and put those on one of the adjacent round table

"Whatcha got in those boxes, Mal?" asked Kip, looking over his shoulders and smirking as Reb got up to get cocoa.

"We have got blankets -lots and lots of blankets in the one box. Probably in consideration of the California crowd down on the southwest hallway, since they're probably going to struggle with getting chilly. This is about half of them, and I'm putting the rest up for grabs in the lounge. They brought us a few board games and card decks too if anyone's interested in those later tonight. Lots of card decks. Looks like we've got a couple of those chess checkers and backgammon sets, and a couple of games of Clue. That should be nice -I'll keep those in the lounge in the box for everyone. We have the key if you all want to turn in the electric fireplace in here later -your choice, as long as nobody finds a way to burn the lodge down with it. And of course, we have more towels and cocoa."

"Well, if we go to the trouble to set that up, those of us who are experienced with fireplaces will turn it off before we go to bed," Eric decided. "Doesn't matter if we're the first or last to turn in either."

"Fair decision," Mal concluded. "Now, on another note -everyone in here -I already told mine earlier, but if you would all spread the word around as others get up and outside too, that'd be amazing. I called management again and asked about the stuff in the shed -we've got sleds, snowboards, and goggles at our disposal in there. Yes, you can all use it as long as they are cleaned up and put back at the end of the day, and that we agree that we are responsible for anything broken. Aside from that, they are up for grabs with the lot of you."

Rod visibly perked up before he could even get his words out, nearly bouncing up out of his seat. "That's great, Mal -thanks!"

"However, one rule with those that I'm putting in place," started Mal, "and I'm not joking about it either -Eric and Tom, you're hearing me and that goes to you and your other mates too. I told all five of mine the same thing before they took sleds out, because we don't want anyone to get hurt or lost in this. _Not far_. It's too dangerous when the roads are blocked and quick help couldn't come. Stay where you can see the lodge. Only exception is down to the stage complex, because there are flags on that road to follow back up."

"Oh, we're not going anywhere far that's unmarked," assured Kip matter-of-factly. "Trust me, all the alerts on the radio back home for people who went missing and had to have the search and rescue teams go rescue them in a snow storm and how hard and dangerous that is on both ends when the roads are blocked like this -I know better."

"And I don't expect it should be a problem from you -you four especially seem rather down to Earth and aware of yourselves," continued Mal "-but please don't do anything stupid with those things. No roughhousing with sleds and hitting each other with boards, or doing things that are just asking for it."

Reb painfully bit back a laugh at the images that sprang into his head, not that any of it seemed like anything they'd do.

"We'll try our best," said Paul jokingly.

"Then you all _have at it_ when you're ready."


	3. Snow Fighting Tooth and Nail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when five bands at a venue set for a music festival get snowed in by a storm that cancels the performance too? Everyone there has the wildest snow day of their lives! (Extremely Fluffy Crackfic).

It was slow squeezing into the mudroom and getting all geared up to go out when they were ready. But once they carefully stepped over the towels Tom had laid down and filed out the door, it didn't take long to get off the porch and into the snow at all.

Kip made it a few long strides away from the porch and flopped down in the snow. He closed his eyes and smiled, purely exhilarated. 

"I know it snows a lot in the city sometimes, but you can't beat a mountain snowfall," he sighed.

Paul was tickled to death at this sight, simply because he'd now known Kip for a good while, and never had he seen him have such a reaction to a snowfall.

"I gotta ask, is that how you usually reacted to snow back home, Kip?" he chuckled.

"Not every time, considering it did a lot. But usually any time it did when there hadn't been a good and deep one in a while, and the first of the season," said Kip, still splayed out in the snow with his blissful expression. "Back then it was usually to attempt a snow angel. Right now it's just because I'm happy. Still isn't quite as intense here in Appalachia as in the Rockies, but it does do the trick."

Reb bent down, scooped a handful of snow up from the upper, soft layer of precipitation just below the surface and tested it in his gloves. It was packing together without taking too much pressure, and it wasn't crumbling to easily either. Just to be sure it didn't have any harder, painful ice in it, he first threw the ball of snow against his own leg.

Feeling a soft impact and seeing a powdery explosion, confirming what he hoped, he reached down, scooped up another snowball, and threw it at Rod, who was looking around and not facing Reb.

The snowball exploded in a powdery spray with a light _puff!_ sound off of Rod's back.

Rod spun around. He had his big, hyper grin that made his eyes crinkle and his cheeks stick out in full bloom.

"Hey!"

Paul reached down, formed a snowball of his own, and also threw it at Rod, getting tagged lightly by a snowball Kip sent his way from the ground before hopping to his feet. Rod was bent down, and had quickly scooped up three as a head start, before throwing back at Paul and Reb.

Reb went to retaliate, missed, and got Kip up high on the shoulder so that the spray from the snowball sent white crystals up through the ends of Kip's hair.

"Ohhhh!" Kip howled, expression quickly shifting from surprised to sinister.

 _"Snow fight!"_ yelped Rod. He was already giggling so that his voice trembled.

"No snow fight!" Reb's made his eyes go big as saucers in mock-terror to be funny, before he laughed grabbed more snow.

"It's on now!" Kip laughed, already having bent down and built up a small hoard to grab and throw from. The first was right back on Reb. It hit light and harmless, but some of it got through his hair and under his scarf, making him shiver as he tried to shake it out without having it drop further inside his coat.

"Oh, you got me under my -aww!" Reb grabbed a snowball and ran forward with it, trying to keep up as Kip easily jumped out of his trajectory, and running into Paul. "Ahh!"

"Alright, Reb, you started it," warned Paul playfully. "Now you're gonna get it!" Before anyone knew it, they were all frantically making snowballs, throwing them, and ducking to dodge them. It was as much fighting as they'd ever gotten into -all still harmless with the snow soft and everyone amused by it.

"Aw, crap, I keep falling down!" Rod lost his footing again and made an awkward stumble into a deeper part of a snowbank that caught him off guard, saving himself at the last minute. He shivered as an impact on his back sprayed powdery snow through his hair and some of it got under his scarf too.

Being from Colorado and used to copious amounts of snow, Kip was immediately identifiable as the experienced snow fight veteran. He seemed to be the most adept at dodging projectiles of snow without falling or staggering in addition to his delight in the conditions. His movement was in smooth, graceful leaps even with the snow up to his knees in the deeper part of the banks. Aside from the bright flush across his cheeks where the wind nipped at them, there was no sign that the cold was getting to him either. When the occasional snowball did catch him, the resulting shiver wasn't hard enough to be visible if it was there. He was practically in his element, mile-wide smile reflecting off the snow crystals shining in his hair.

Paul was the least experienced, and visibly struggling, but his playful nature was more than enough to carry him along. No sooner than he was down on the ground, he was back up again and quick to retaliate with fairly accurate and coordinated throws that even Kip was having to pull quick maneuvers to escape.

Reb was a good fighter, but he easily dissolved in laughter with his amusement and was struggling to stay focused on where he was going as he ran around because of it -causing him to mildly panic each time he had a near miss. A quick turn to prevent knocking Rod over, followed by another twist to try and duck one of Paul's projectiles, and he stepped backwards into a deeper part of an uneven snowbank, setting his balance off.

"And, we got one down!" Kip cried out, pointing as Reb sat down hard in the snow, feet splayed out in front of him and resting on top of the snow layer, doubled over his lap. Now he was laughing so hard that his arms went too weak to push himself with, rendering him unable to get up.

Paul ran over next to Reb with the snowball he had and began breaking it up with his hands over Reb's head so that cold, wet, powdery crystals went raining down over him.

"I said you were gonna get it -and I wasn't kidding!" he declared triumphantly, scooping up a handful of snow and sprinkling that over Reb too.

From the side and slightly behind them, Rod was sneaking up, holding a snowball and trying painfully hard not to laugh and give himself away.

Kip stood to the other side, stopped in mid-stride and laughing as though the event playing out was the funniest thing he'd seen. When he cast a hand out, crossing his arm over his chest to point at Paul and Reb, it confirmed his hysterical state.

"AH, _no!_ Stop!" Reb howled through gasps of laughter, shaking snow out of his hair and ending up with fluffy strands getting in his face. He shuddered as the snow in his hair dropped down inside his coat, shocking against his neck in cold sparks. "Paul, you're putting snow down my coat -stop!"

Before Paul could scoop up another handful of snow, Rod aimed and nailed him perfectly in the back just as Reb had initially gotten him. Turning around to see where it came from, Paul lost his footing and was down in the snow next to Reb within a second.

Rod cracked up. "Oh, Paul!"

"You-!" Paul was silenced soon as he spoke as Reb got a glove full of snow and tossed it over Paul the way Paul had done to him. It sent Paul into a momentary bout of chattering and both through another round of the giggles.

Kip regained himself and shook his head as he watched Reb and Paul continue tossing loose snow and flicking their hands in the air as if pretending to hit at each other. "Come on, you all. Play nice!" he mock-scolded, right before Rod sneaked up behind him, taking advantage of his distraction. That set Kip off chasing him until Rod was breathlessly giggling and attempting to take cover behind Paul, waving his hand in the air like he was clutching an invisible white flag.

"I see ya!" Kip stopped chasing.

"Whew! I'm alright, just give me a sec." Rod took a minute to recover, then reached down and sneaked another snowball then, setting the next round of soft snow projectiles going between them.

"Maybe I started it, but you carried it on, Rod!" shouted Reb with humor as they went back through the chaos of dodging and throwing.

Inside, life was just beginning to stir on the southwest hallway. George Lynch was waking up to the sensation of being cuddled on one side, getting poked on the other, and soft locks of hair tickling his nose, which he easily guessed were strawberry blond in color. Then, as he turned his head up from the side, a brighter than any normal sunshine through a window light against his eyelids and pleasant warmth from it. He could hear faint, playful shouting outside the glass. One of the voices was quite recognizable when it went into higher pitches, and he was able to tell that it was Kip and his bandmates.

"George!" Jeff whisper-shouted. "Let's go!"

George let his eyelids flutter open slowly to meet Jeff and the sheer joy in his eyes, following it down to Jeff's hand pointed out the window. A soft grin curling his lips, he slowly turned his head against the pillow to face the window, being met with the sight outside that he knew was what had Jeff so excited before he'd opened his eyes by the light intensity alone. Seeing the snow hanging heavy in the trees so it pulled even the lower branches down, and the fact that Jeff was already dressed, confirmed everything before he said it.

"Two feet of snow!"

George yawned and stretched out. "And I take it you want to go out and play in it," he murmured, lifting his head.

Jeff let go and lifted off of him. "Mal says there's no power down on the main road for the stage! Festival's postponed, and almost half of everyone here are already out having a blast in it! Come on; let's go!"

He then jumped off the bed, causing the frame to creak in protest, and ran out in the hall, nearly running into Don, who was on his way out of his room.

"I had a feeling you were going to be bouncing off the walls when you woke up," Don quipped.

"Two feet of snow!" Jeff repeated, as if it were obvious and it didn't make any sense for someone _not_ to be completely ecstatic over it.

"Give Mick a moment to peel himself from his mattress and he might get himself all hyped up too." Don slipped into one of the bathrooms to get dressed, giving Mick the liberty of a slower pace in their room to wake himself up.

Tom and Eric were sitting in the common room, in view of the doorway when Mick and George finally caught up to Jeff and Don. The former stood up and approached the doorway almost like a bouncer.

"Coffee and hot water to make tea and cocoa is in here on the counter, and you can go get whatever you want to eat from the kitchen. Mal's covering on management talks, but we are snowed in and postponed for now -so it's a free for all snow day."

Jeff was far too fidgety to sit still at the table. So much that Don jokingly asked him if he really needed to be drinking the coffee he was having. That made Eric and Tom laugh, but George shot Don a death glare over it, quickly ending the humor in fear that things were about to get nasty. By that point, Jeff had pretty much had as much of the waffle he'd gotten from the kitchen that he was capable of eating without requiring him to settle down and sit still, so he went and watched out the window in the lounge, kneeling over the back of the couch like a hyper puppy watching the FedEx truck. He saw Steve and Phil way off to the right corner of his vision emerging over the top of the northeast hill with a sled, setting it up to ride back down again, then a little more central of that, the innocent snowball fight Winger were having.

"Alright, Jeff, just fifteen minutes," warned Don. "Or, you could go outside and do something else while you wait for us."

George rolled his eyes, knowing Jeff wasn't going outside unless he had someone else to hang with.

Outside, the snowball fighting was winding down.

"We might want to go out in the sleds before everyone else starts coming out," Kip warned. "That way, we're not competing to get to them when everyone's out, and we're not going to be sledding the whole time, so we'll get it back to the others sooner."

Paul happened to look over to the window from outside at that moment, and his face lit up, motioning Jeff to come outside.

Jeff all but flew off the couch to put on his snow gear and was outside less than a minute later, making his way out across the hilltop.

"Hey!" hollered Paul, running forward the last few feet to meet him in his path.

"How's it going?" asked Jeff as he and Paul slapped fives and exchanged a quick, single-armed hug.

"Great -first big trip on the road together has been great, and I gotta say, this is probably the most fun we'll ever see at a festival. Long time, no see -not counting the few minutes last night." With the arrival process and the hall arrangement, they hadn't exactly interacted much aside from a quick hello then -Jeff had generally hung out with his fellow bandmates and their friends in Ratt, and Paul had hung with his and Tom, who they were friendly with.

"We're having our ups and downs on the road, but it's been better than last tour most of the time this trip. Too bad we don't always get this at festivals -we'd book a whole lot more if they did," Jeff agreed. "Looked like a pretty good snowball fight you all had going -I'm waiting on everyone else to come outside so I can get one going with them."

"I'd say it was pretty good," Reb admitted, looking over with a timid smile, not knowing Jeff too well and naturally being shy. "Paul got snow down my coat when he decided to throw snow in my hair, but it was funny."

Jeff grinned. "Yeah, sounds like something Paul would do!"

"Well, we stopped because we're heading out on sleds soon -Rod and Kip went to get sleds, rig them up with some ropes, and look for goggles for us. But, you can snow fight with Reb and I while we wait," Paul suggested. "Reb and I didn't continue, 'cause it's not exactly interesting to snowball fight one to one, but a group of three or more works out!"

Jeff's morning was all but made with those words. Within a few seconds, soft snow projectiles were in the air again.

Though not with as much grace as Kip, Jeff proved to be quite stable running in the snow too, not stumbling or having near misses. His strides were more straight forward, more like that of a sprinter, and he placed his feet far apart in the snow and sharply bent over to avoid snowballs coming in higher rather than leaping to the side.

"Not a bad idea," said Reb, taking note of Jeff's method. "I'm not so great at side jumping or twisting to dodge it."

"Yeah, because you end up off your feet with snow thrown in your hair," laughed Paul, poking Reb and distracting him before exploding another snowball off his back.

"It does take a lot of stamina to run under them though," warned Jeff, panting from his strenuous running, pausing too long, and getting it in the shoulder from Paul, only to laugh it off with Reb.

"Uh-oh, it looks like have sleds," warned Paul as Kip and Rod came around the corner, wearing goggles and towing two sleds they'd rigged some ropes to, and also holding a pair of goggles each for Paul and Reb.

"Troublemakers! You two are troublemakers!" Kip teased. "Rod and I go around the corner for five minutes and you all are out here pulling someone else into the battlegrounds!"

"With everyone here, we have plenty of opportunities to do it too," Paul played back, scooping a loose handful of snow over Jeff's head to be funny and provoking Reb into a bashful fit of giggling.

"Probably not a bad fighter to pick for it," Kip continued. "How are you, Jeff?"

Jeff shook his head to knock the snow off. "Fantastic!"

"I gotta say, Tom was thinking you were going to be real excited when you woke up and saw it. I think he might have been right!"

"I heard that," said Tom from where he was sitting out on one of the porch swings with his guitar and coffee mug. He made Rod jump at his sudden appearance. "Now you guys are trying to rat me out!"

"That's alright, he's really not wrong about that at all!" Jeff was unabashed.

"Hey, if the others aren't up yet and you want to come with us on the sleds, the sleds can take up to three -you're welcome to come along with us if you like," Kip offered.

"Aw, that's alright," said Jeff with a grin. "They're inside just taking it at a slower pace than I am -they'll be outside soon. But thanks -really! You all have fun."

"Hey, same to you when they get outside!" Paul added, before they turned for the hill and Jeff turned to go back to the lodge and wait, still panting from running around.

"Oh look!" exclaimed Rod, looking over the hill as all five members of Def Leppard were just getting back up to the top from what was their second run down the hill.

"Look at how much more snow came down from last night!" Rick hollered.

"Hey, would you all like to race down the hill?" Joe offered.

Kip shrugged. "If everyone else is up for it, I am -that sounds great."

"Hell, yeah!" shouted Paul and Reb in unison. Rod sat down fast on his sled he was sharing with Paul, his answer being quite clear before he threw up the thumbs up signal.

"Alright, let's get lined up -this needs to be as even a split as possible so one sled isn't too much heavier or lighter," ordered Joe. "Sav, mate, you climb on with me -Rick, if you get on with Steve and Phil, it should be as even as we can get. Kip, you all are looking just fine in regards to that, and you've all got your goggles on now-"

"We're ready!" declared Reb.

"Alright, everyone prepare to push off, and we'll count it off-"

Phil looked behind himself at Rick, who was humming the tune of 'Ridin the Storm Out'. "Rick, mate, are you _seriously_ humming REO Speedwagon?"

"Hey, if the shoe fits," started Paul, not even bothering to finish the expression.

"We really are snowed in up in the mountains too -just in Appalachia instead. It does fit." Kip winked at Rick in silent approval.

"Alright, on three, two, one-" Joe counted. "-Off!"

Everyone kicked off and started flying down the hill side by side, pushing to try and speed up. First there was initial whoops, then Kip broke out in singing.

_"Well I'm not missing a thing..."_

Rick, Joe, Sav, and Reb promptly joined.

_"...Watching the full moon crossing the range...!"_

Less than a minute later when they hit the bottom, everyone was singing, and had completely lost track as to who was ahead, let alone remembering to try passing each other in the sake of racing.

Jeff had made it back to the porch and was trying to stamping the snow out of his boots so he wouldn't take them off, still panting from chasing Reb and Paul around.

"You haven't even been outside ten minutes and you already need water!" Tom shook his head, standing up to sweep the porch.

"All in good fun!" Jeff decided he'd done as well as he could and ran back inside.

"We're almost ready now," assured George as Jeff came into the common room. He was coming out of the kitchen from putting plates away, and Mick and Don were heading back to their room to put on an extra layer of clothes before getting on snow gear. Small banter came down the hall as they ran into Juan, who was emerging from his room and walking toward the bathroom with his hygiene kit.

"I take it we're postponed?"

"Postponed, possibly canceled; we're not sure," answered Mick in passing. "We are sure about having fun in the snow!" 

"Fair plan. We'll see you all outside soon then."

Jeff exited to the porch first as Mick and Don got geared up with George.

With Don's eyes locked in in the snow covered landscape, and George looking at Jeff and excited to get out with him, neither were looking at each other and tried to run through the door at the exact same moment. Suddenly, George felt the doorframe bruise his ribs on one side as the two of them got wedged in the doorway.

"Ouch!" he snapped.

"Well, maybe if you watched where you were going!" Don snapped back. "Yeah, it doesn't feel so great for me either!"

"Alright, alright, you two are fine." Rolling his eyes, Mick came up from inside and pulled Don back through the doorway while Jeff grabbed George's shoulders and pulled forward, getting the two unstuck.

"You couldn't have been watching where you were going either if you didn't see that I was there!" George retorted.

"Hey, hey; are you guys alright?" asked Tom, running back down the length of the veranda, having been walking around again and concerned by the commotion he heard around the corner.

"Yeah, at least I'm good. I'd be fantastic if it weren't for my singer-"

Tom turned around and high tailed it to the stairs for the top deck, deciding he didn't want to know, nor did he want to get any further into it.

"Oh for crying out loud, George, will you just hush up?" Don sighed. "Alright, I'll take the blame for it this time. Are you satisfied?"

"Maybe I am, and maybe I'm -!"

"-Guys, please. Enough," scolded Mick. "George, Jeff is waiting for you out on the porch."

George shot out through the door before Jeff enthusiastically grabbed George's arm and led him off the veranda and out in the snow. Shrugging, Mick started to turn and walk out the door, paying too much attention to meeting Don's sidelong glance to notice that he was also stepping forward too -until Mick felt the doorframe catch him on one side and Don catch him on the other.

"Oof!" Mick whimpered.

"Well, I guess we could have thought _that_ over better," Don grumbled, trying and struggling to pull back inside as he realized they were stuck again -and worse this time considering Mick wasn't the scrawny figure that George was. He didn't dare try to push outside -they'd gotten stuck from the inside, and that would get them more stuck to push further.

"Is this why they call it a lodge? Because you get 'lodged' in it?" Mick joked to try and make light of it.

"Funny," said Don sardonically. "You know, I never thought of it that way, but that just might be-"

Mick and Don both flinched as they each felt a large, warm hand come down on their shoulders, then turned their heads slowly to meet eyes with Robbin, who at that precise moment might as well have resembled an angel.

"You two need some help?" he asked softly. "'Cause from down the hall it sounded like you two were having some trouble, and it sure looks like it."

Don exasperatedly closed his eyes and all but tilted his head to rest his cheek on Robbin's hand.

"King, bless your soul," he sighed. "Yes, _please."_

Robbin pulled the door -which opened facing inside -as far open as possible to reduce the amount of the hinge blocking the doorframe. Then, he reached an arm around Don's shoulders, Don being opposite of the hinge and with the least resistance on his side, and pulled Don back inside the threshold, freeing Mick as he did.

"Mick, you stay put, or step through the door and stand on the porch before one of you two get stuck again," Robbin warned. "Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm good. I'm all ready to go; just waiting to get out there," said Mick.

"Alright. Don?" Robbin looked down to Don, still with his hand on his shoulder, and Don silently decided in his head for what was probably the hundredth time in the past four years that Robbin was too kind for the cruel world they all lived in.

"All good. Thanks again, Robbin." Don stepped out the door successfully this time to join Mick.

"No problem, man." Robbin turned to face back toward the hall off of the lounge. "Torch, what's the status down there?"

"Well..." Warren ran into the common room and looked through the doorway, appearing slightly flustered as though mass pandemonium was going on down the hall -which with everyone left getting up at once wasn't far from accurate.

"...Fred and Jeff are up. I think it's Fred -no, it was Jeff -went to the bathroom to get dressed so Fred could in his room. And Juan did too, because Stephen's not up -Fred was going to try and work on that after he gets done in -actually, he might be there by now. Everyone's kind of everywhere right now; I don't know where Bobby is and I'm still trying to get in the bathroom-"

"Don't worry about it, I get the idea -and go to the other end of the hall if it's that crazy. Oh, Fred too -tell that kid not to even _try_ fighting that battle. You can _wake_ him up, but we know full well that you can't make him _get up_ for about half an hour longer unless he's hungover and has to get up whether he wants to or not, and if that were anyone other than Fred or myself, the gloves would come off for sure. We'll go outside when we're ready whether they are or not. And we might see about inviting the Dokken guys to hang out there with us if they're kind of off on their own out there too." Robbin shut the door behind Don, making sure he was a couple of strides onto the porch and clear of it.

"I think we got up and out of there at perfect timing, because it sounds like things just took off crazy in there," sighed Don.

"For sure," agreed Mick. They approached the edge of the porch together. 

The wind had blown a snowbank up against the edge, stopped by the end of the wooden boards. Some of the snow falling down from the edge of the upper deck had also contributed to the mass of snow in front of them that looked close to two feet tall.

"It's only a shallow step. It was only like half a foot when we got here -but you can't see down to the ground, so just step off the edge into the snow, I guess," said Mick. Cautiously, he and Don grabbed on to each other's hands before taking a tall step up over the hill of snow for stability.

"Finally, we made it out the door, and now we're not sure how to get off the porch - _holy moly_ , it's over my _knees!"_ exclaimed Don, having planted his foot down in the snow and having it end up way deeper than it looked. "What if I fall down?"

"Oh, shit!" gasped Mick, nearly falling himself as he stepped off and by some miracle, managing to catch himself. " _Don't_ fall down, or whichever one of us does is gonna pull the other down too! I think it's higher here than it is out there though, because if you look out, Jeff only has it up to his knees, and you're taller than him."

"Well, I hope it's not this deep out there," Don decided. "I may go back inside if it is. And no, you'd better not fall down and take me with you!" With Mick's help, Don took a few more steps forward, finding the snow just below his knees after a few more steps. A few more steps out onto the hilltop, and it was in varying depths from the wind, some up to his knees, and some just over his boots. It was manageable.

"Alright, that's better," sighed Mick. "Hey, race you out to Jeff and George!"

"Mick, are you kidding?" Don asked, before trying to run after Mick, who attempted to run through the snow, picking his feet up high in front of him so that his knees nearly hit his chest, trying to get through the snow. Don just barely started to run after Mick before the drummer lost his footing and went down in the snow.

"I thought so," said Don smugly. "Question is, do I help you up, or are you going to take me down there with you like you joked about?"

"Aw, come on!" Mick heaved himself up from the ground and ran the rest of the way out to Jeff and George.

With the coast clear on the veranda, Tom sneaked back down from the deck and headed inside, amused by the action he saw taking place further down the hill. Def Leppard and Winger were having sled races split into four teams, and though they were too far away to hear, Tom imagined they were having plenty of fun. 

He also heard shouting -some of it excited, some of it less friendly. Down below, Dokken had started snow fighting. Because they were reaching aggressively down into the heavier, compacted layers deep in the snow, their snowballs were thicker and harder. They flew faster and further, but when they hit, they were the type that didn't feel too good.

"Ouch, Don!" George complained as Don hit him in the head. 

"Oof!" Mick got it in the side of his face from George.

"Aim a little lower," Don scolded, getting it in the head too. "Not too low -heaven forbid, but for pity's fucking sake -not in the head or the face either!"

Shaking his head and murmuring a low " _oh, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy_ ," Tom went back into the lounge to find the remaining late sleepers up and about, having gotten past the initial chaos of getting up, dressed, and in and out of the bathrooms.

"Well, you guys are getting up sooner than I thought you would."

"We are, but we did cut it out last night way earlier than we almost ever do," Robbin explained. Came in a little jet lagged and tired. Torch was all but crashing out on the couch a little over an hour from when you turned in. Blotz was in his hyperactive state he gets in when he's tired, Juan and Stephen were starting to get cranky, arguing was breaking out over that -we'd had enough. Everyone just decided it was time to stop and started sneaking out."

"I would agree on that. No fun at that point." Tom looked up as Jeff LaBar appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Jeff -you're up? You slept in pretty late for you."

Jeff nodded with a shy glance out from under his dark curls.

"Stay asleep all night?"

"Yeah, slept great once I fell asleep." Jeff turned around to face the other end of the table. "Thanks for that last night, Robbin."

"Hey, sometimes you need help winding down when you're all worked up. It's no problem," Robbin assured. "Feeling any better?"

"Panic attack again?" asked Tom. "This past week just hasn't been so great to you."

Jeff blushed. "Yeah. I'm actually feeling pretty good right now for having had one."

"Well, hey!" Robbin reached over and gave Jeff a pat on the shoulder. "Maybe with today off we'll get you right for a while."

"Yeah, you have a whole extra day to take it easy and relax now, or have some fun, because it's postponed," Tom explained.

"So it's just a free-for-all out in the snow?" asked Jeff, perking up with a shy smile.

"Anything in this lodge or outside of it you want to do that you can and you'll have fun doing," confirmed Robbin.

Tom chuckled. "Say, I know you're gonna go out and be crazy in that snow at least for a little while, Jeff."

Jeff shrugged, going into his perpetual state of bashful giggling. "Soon as everyone else is ready to go too, I guess."

"You can come and hang out with us too if you want," Robbin reminded. "We might team up with the Dokken guys so we get a good group for snow games, or snowball fighting."

The sound of the front door opening came again, and Fred, dressed, but not in any snow gear, came running inside holding a snowball.

"The Dokken guys are having a snowball fight, and the snow packs really well out there! Look at how perfect it is for snowballs!"

"Fred, take that back _out_ before it melts," ordered Tom, pointing to the door and getting serious. "And what are you doing making a snowball without gloves?!"

Fred gave an innocent grin. "I don't know, I just wanted to grab one and didn't think about that."

"Fred, kiddo, what the fuck are you doing?" muttered Stephen as he entered from the hallway and went straight for the coffee pot, having finally roused himself from bed. He didn't look entirely thrilled with it yet, still in the loose shirt and track pants he'd worn to bed -proof positive of cold weather, and with a massive case of bedhead that served to flop hair in his eyes even more than usual.

"Being crazy carrying a snowball inside with his bare hands, and he's gonna be cold if he doesn't stop soon," Tom replied sardonically.

Stephen shook his head and blew up into his overgrown side bang, retreating to the lounge. "You're nuts. Get rid of that thing before you wind up with frozen fingers."

"It is cold," Fred laughed, already heading for the front door. A moment later, he returned, rubbing his hands together.

"I'm sure they are cold." Tom pointed out of the common room again. "Go get some gloves on and you can mess around with snowballs all you want. Eric's been waiting for you and Jeff to get up so he can get it going with you all outside. You know I'm not that interesting to roughhouse with."

"That's 'cause you just _don't_ roughhouse," Fred snorted. "You probably give the literal definition of 'play nice'!"

"Never been my thing to play super rough. I might come out with you guys for a little bit -you know I'll be on the losing end of any snow fighting though." Tom went to check out the window to see if the porch needed sweeping, but Mal was in his way in from it. 

He gave everyone left the lowdown on the postponing and the rules for the snow gear in the shed again, before heading to the lounge to take a break while there was a pause in the business department regarding management.

"Any word on my rowdy crowd?" he asked Tom in a joking manner.

"From what it looked like, they're racing sleds down the big hill with Winger," said Tom. "I saw them all climb back up together and count off to go down at once."

"Sounds like they're doing alright then," Mal noted with a pleased expression.

"We'll see how we end up doing." Tom followed as Eric, Fred, and Jeff headed for the mud room to gear up and head out. One by one, they climbed out from under the veranda.

"So." Tom crossed his arms and looked out across the hilltop pensively. "What are we doing first-?"

Eric exploded a snowball that was thankfully a softer one off the side of his forehead.

"-Following everyone else -why'd I even ask?" Tom murmured, shaking it off.

"Come on!" Eric hollered.

There was gentle snow play for a few minutes. Then, Fred pulled a rather large icicle down off the side of the veranda overhang and looked it over, before grinning naughtily at Jeff.

"Guys, you can't sword fight with those -even if they look thick, they'll still break," Tom warned.

"We don't actually have to make contact with them," Fred retorted. He pointed the icicle tip up, holding it at the base and snarled. _"En guarde!"_

Eric snorted and chuckled to himself. Tom pulled another icicle down and humored Fred by miming it with him and making lightsaber noises.

_"Bzzzzzzzzzttt!"_

Jeff giggled at their imitation before he grabbed an icicle and threw it out into the open hilltop like a lawn dart, trying to see how far he could make it. Promptly, Eric did the same, exceeding Jeff's shot by a good four feet.

"I think I got you that time," teased Eric, grabbing another and poking it through Jeff's hair to stick the cold tip against the back of his neck.

"Ow!" giggled Jeff, shivering as the cold, pointy tip scratched lightly, broke off, and slid down under his scarf to melt into frigid water on his skin. "That hurt!"

"It did not!" groaned Eric, tossing the rest of the icicle forward at Jeff. "Barely touched it to you."

"Uh, I wouldn't recommend that, guys. Let's stick to snow if we're throwing at each other," Tom warned. He was a moment too late, as Malvin had seen and was a lot less gentle with his warning.

"Stop!" he scolded with a world-class glare. " _No throwing ice_ between the lot of you -no more! Before one of you all get hurt. Throwing snowballs is fine, but you throw icicles, somebody's gonna get it in the eye, and I won't be the one of you cleaning it up when someone comes running inside gashed out!"

Fred turned around and pressed his glove over his mouth, shoulders shaking with hysterical giggling, before disappearing around the corner so Malvin wouldn't hear and get angrier. Eric shrugged it off, not intent on throwing any more. However, Jeff nodded, only somewhat timid at first, then looked down to the floor, shrinking in on himself as though he was afraid he was in big trouble.

"Where'd Fred go?" he murmured, looking around cautiously.

He was nailed from behind with a snowball as Fred sprang out from around the corner of the veranda, jumping at first with a yelp, then snapping out of his fearful haze and back to the fun loving state he'd been in prior to the scolding.

Fred had just realized that the lodge could not only serve as a place to take a break inside, but the exterior setup of it made for a great fort. Immediately, he leapt off the porch and ran around the corner again, prepared to run behind, and sneak back on from the side unsuspectingly.

Bewildered as Eric and Jeff started running after Fred around the back, Tom stood on the veranda, now down on the western corner, watching as his bandmates ran wild around and out of sight. From there, he could also see Dokken, who for the sake of recuperating from pelting each other had now taken a pause from the aggressive snow fighting to standing to the side of the lodge by the screened in porch, trying to hit different trees with snowballs and see who could hit as close to a specific limb or scar in the bark.

There was peaceful quiet for a second, aside from what sounded like quiet, friendly remarks between Jeff Pilson and George, less friendly remarks between George and Don, and the occasional whoop from Mick as he hit closer to whatever he was aiming for.

Then loud shouting, and Tom saw his bandmates reemerge down on the northern corner, the other end of the veranda, run halfway down, jump off at the porch, chase through the snow in a funny looking run -especially with how the snow practically came up to Jeff LaBar's thighs -and start throwing snowballs back over their shoulders and ahead to try and catch each other while still running.

"What are you all doing?" Tom snickered as Jeff hopped onto the veranda to take cover. Eric followed, and a snowball Fred sent after them exploded off one of the beams supporting the deck overhang. The snow powder sprayed out across the walkway in a burst of fine white on the wood -more noticeable than the compacted and watery snow that dropped out of boots in clear, slushy chunks.

"Oh-no; it's on the walkway!" shouted Jeff through wild giggling as Fred disappeared around the corner again.

"Off the walkway!" cried Eric in unison, in a sarcastically dramatic tone like some terrible thing would happen because they had broken up snow all over the walkway.

 _"Off the walkway,"_ Tom ordered in one of the low, wicked-sounding growls he could force out, playing along and gesturing to all the snow on the wooden walkway of the veranda that now needed to be swept off so it wouldn't get tracked inside. "You all are crazy."

"You'd better run!" shouted Fred, coming back around, still with a handful of snowballs.

"Get out of here." Tom gave Eric and Jeff a playful shove off the side of the veranda, before picking up the broom and pushing it forcefully against the snowy surface as if to shoo Fred off and flick snow off at the same time. "Off the walkway!"

Jeff and Eric struggled to get back out in the deep snow by the veranda's edge again. Fred threw a snowball down against the porch boards forcefully with a loud thump, just to defy Tom's orders.

"Aw, and that one sounded really hard!" groaned Jeff, knowing it would have hurt had it hit somebody.

"That's alright, by the time we have everyone running in and out of the lodge, there's gonna be so much snow tracked up here that those snowballs won't mean a bit!" Tom began sweeping the snow off. "But we don't want to throw it up on here in masses. It's already going to be a mess without that."

"Hey, if we can't have snowballs on the veranda, let's go up to the deck where it's accumulated up there!" Fred suggested. "There's already snow on the deck, so that's gotta be alright."

"That's fine, and there's not a tracking problem up there with going in and out," agreed Tom. "But, be careful. Don't do anything stupid, you know? Like no pushing and shoving around the rails. And I don't care how thick the snow down below looks -the only way up and down from there is the stairs, okay?"

Fred grinned mischievously. "Come on, now, Tom. Stop being a worrier as much as Mal; we wouldn't do that-"

Tom smirked. "I've seen a thing or two with you guys."

Fred's grin expanded despite his effort to hold it back.

"Uh-huh, you know what I'm talking about! I don't want to see any cannon-balling into the snow from nine feet off the ground!"

"Yes, _mother_."

Tom snorted so his nostrils flared and his big lips curled back in their unusual manner that could look scary to someone who hadn't seen it. He picked up the broom and pretending to charge threateningly with it, but the smile in his eyes said he was still just playing. 

"Shut up, Fred!"

Fred ran down to the stairs to climb up after Eric and Jeff, now already on their way up. Tom didn't get a moment alone before Ratt finally made their way outside, and the fighting had begun before they even made it off the porch -without snow as the result of a tussle in the mudroom.

If Dokken had only been roughing each other up, and his bandmates were simply roughhousing, then Juan, Bobby, and Stephen were practically going for knockout when they made it out into the snow, having decided to settle their aggressions with it. Problem was, it didn't translate to any fun."

"Ouch, Stephen, that hurt!" Juan complained, getting it in the face.

"Well, learn to block and duck out of the way, and if you can't take the heat, go find something else to do and shut up," Stephen retorted. "What else do ya expect if you're gonna throw snow?!"

"Never mind what you'd be saying if that one hit-" Juan cut off as Bobby sneaked up and hit both of them in the heads from less than three feet behind, then came around and attempted to pack it in both of their faces.

"Blotz, you sick motherf-!"

"Guys, cool it. Someone's gonna get hurt," Robbin scolded, pushing Bobby away from Stephen and Juan, and trying to block the latter two from retaliating. Warren stood behind Robbin on the edge of the veranda, timidly peaking out from between his gloved fingers. He didn't look too thrilled to jump in with his madhouse of bandmates.

 _Not sure which of those two I feel worse for right now,_ Tom thought to himself in regards to the two guitarists who just wanted to be out in the snow for fun and not have an unnecessary massacre instead, only for one to have to break it up and the other to be frightened by it. Shifting his focus away from the hilltop as shouting came up around the side, he saw all four members of Dokken running back to the front from the side with their arms over their heads as if trying to block something from up above.

"INCOMING!" shouted Eric, as ran around to the front to start throwing longer-range shots out to the hilltop with Fred and Jeff. Snowballs all but started raining downward, and Bobby took the first impact on top of his head, catching him off guard.

"Whoa!" He looked up toward the deck and realized the source. For better or worse, his hot head had not only figuratively, but literally been cooled for the time being, and the vicious cycle had been paused for what most of them hoped would last all day. Immediately, he and Robbin threw the snowballs they had in their hands back at the lodge, then Bobby charged with Juan toward the front, continuing to throw shots at the deck and chase after Dokken. Robbin caught Warren in his arm and directed him to go with him in the other direction to strategize a less noticeable approach. The ones that didn't make it up as high as the deck were coming for the sides of the first floor, and Tom.

"No, not by the windows!" Tom shrieked, jumping up from the chair he'd sat in and running down to the stairs to flee for the deck. A moment later, he was throwing snow downward with his bandmates, struggling to stay upright with how hard he was laughing.

"Hey, I didn't start that shit!" Bobby shouted with each throw aimed at Tom. "I didn't start that shit!"

Warren and Robbin were sneaking around the back of the lodge by the time Tom made it up, making much less aggressive shots at their bandmates, stealthily as possible so the shock came more from it being unexpected than it actually hurting. They also attempted a few shots up to the deck. With the height, it wasn't the easiest to make it, but they managed a couple -much to Tom's surprise when he got one in the shin. Then they continued to the front to go after Bobby, Juan, and all of Dokken.

"Hey!" shouted Juan as Warren sneaked one around the corner of the lodge. He started to chase Warren, but he'd already disappeared around the corner, trying to stealth attack someone else with Robbin. Each time they passed the western front corner of the lodge, they got hit in the head from above as Tom threw down snowballs that Fred quickly produced and stacked up.

"Jeez, this got going so fast I barely even saw what happened to start it!" Don shouted as Juan shook snow out of his hair, having received another attack from above. "That's pretty resourceful on their thinking -hey!" A gentle snowball from Robbin caught him before he finished his statement.

"Careful if you don't want to end up in this, Don, because you all are in their range and our range too!" Juan warned.

"You'd better run! Or not!" shouted Jeff Pilson, trying to chase after the running guitarists with George. At that point, Robbin and Warren split off from each other, seeing they were getting tailed. Robbin engaged in a more straight-forward back and forth throwing with Jeff, the two laughing and shouting the whole time. George chased Warren back around the lodge in the other direction, throwing cold projectiles after him until the latter cried out for cease-fire.

Stephen squawked indignantly as he got nailed between the shoulder blades with a projectile Jeff LaBar sent down from the deck next to Tom. He turned on his heels -not so gracefully in that endeavor with snow well up to his knees, and tore back down the veranda to the stairs, intent on running up to the deck.

"Are you nuts?!" Juan demanded, not even bothering to try stopping him from running.

Because Stephen had been hit from the southwest end of the lodge and the stairs were on the northeast end, he tracked a ridiculous amount of snow all the way down the walkway and across the porch on his way there. By grabbing snow from the side of the walkway, he had a hoard of snowballs to retaliate with by the time he made it up the stairs.

Tom shook his head at his bandmates. "You guys are crazy -hey!" He yelped as Stephen got him in the back of the head. He kept throwing, managing to catch Fred and Jeff too, saving one to throw down and try and attack Bobby with.

Eric sneaked around from the backside of the deck and counter-attacked.

"No! Alright, alright! Fuck it, that's enough! Enough!" Stephen shielded himself, getting hit from both angles, before turning around and running back down the stairs to take cover inside, all but knocking Juan and Bobby over, who were running up to engage in the top deck battle.

"Aw, man, it got wild up here, way quicker than I thought it would," Tom panted, ducking around the corner of the upper structure to dodge a snow missile from Jeff LaBar.

"You bet!" Eric laughed. By now, Fred was fighting them on the deck rather than throwing down, as nobody was running around down there to make an aerial attack on. The impromptu action was starting to fizzle out. Robbin was running out to check up on Dokken, and Warren, not having a great stamina for battle, had quietly exited the fight and sneaked behind the lodge to try his hand at snowboarding on the shallow side of the back hill. 

By the time everyone had settled down and finished fighting around the deck, twenty minutes had passed, and he was already figuring out that his experience with surfing did indeed have some application on snow, even if it did have a different feel.

Then George came around the back with Jeff Pilson, who wanted to ride down the back hill on a sled. He found out quickly that there were none available left, as Jeff LaBar and Eric had grabbed the fifth one and were trying to drag each other around the hilltop by the rope rigged to it.

"That's too bad," said George.

Jeff grabbed an inner tube instead. "It's alright; I'm curious to see how this works." He ran toward the hill and at the very top of the incline, threw himself down on the tube, head-first on his belly so he went bouncing down the hill on the surface of the snow. Halfway down, a bounce spun him so he was going down backwards and couldn't see where he was going. George's eyes widened with alarm, but Jeff started giggling loudly, and he couldn't be too worried with that.

Warren, who was climbing back up, leapt to the side at the last second so that he didn't get bowled down. Jeff stopped at the bottom just a few feet below him, triggering all three of them to laugh.

"Oh- Jeff, are you okay?" asked Warren. "I'm sorry about that if-"

"No, you didn't even catch me -you're good." Jeff hopped up and sprinted back up the hill, almost effortlessly with his wild energy.

"How's the snowboards working out?" asked George as Warren made it back up a few seconds later, not having the same agility in snow to run so quickly up the hill that Jeff had.

"Well, the mechanism is somewhat the same as surfing, so I'm getting the hang of it pretty quick," started Warren, watching Jeff with curiosity as the hyper bassist pitched himself down again -this time sitting upright to see if it gave him more control of his direction. "I'd say it's a little different controlling the movement though, because usually the water does most of the moving and propelling as opposed to leaning forward and gravity. Snow kind of goes out from under you a little less evenly too, so sometimes it drops down and knocks you off with it." Warren paused, shivering and rubbing his gloved hands together. "It's a lot colder than on the lower coast water too."

George raised his eyebrows as Jeff stopped at the bottom again with the ground leveling out, but falling over on his side from the inertia still on him.

"You good?"

Jeff sprinted back up again. "Great!"

"How about you, Torch; you riding back down again?"

Warren shrugged, readjusting his scarf that had gotten blown almost entirely off him on the way down. "I like it, but I'm not sure how much longer I can make it before I have to stop inside. It is really, _really_ freezing out here, and you know I'm not cut out for cold weather."

"If you stop now before you get super cold, you won't have to stay in as long," Jeff suggested, entertaining himself by trying to push his tube to roll on its side without falling over.

"I'm trying to not be the first one to have to go back in." Warren looked a little abashed as he said it. He was always embarrassed to admit to getting overwhelmed by an extreme environment a lot faster than everyone else normally did. Already, he was starting to zone out, gaze drifting out into the distance at the snow covered hills as soon as he let his thoughts shift from keeping his focus on something. He sniffled intermittently as the cold began to work on making his sinuses run.

"Well, don't wait 'til it takes you out," warned George. He was well aware from the time they'd known each other in the early days that Warren would let himself get in over his head with a problematic situation and end up collapsing because he was too shy and stubborn to contradict anyone for himself.

Getting another idea, Jeff cast his inner tube aside and simply lay down on the ground parallel to the hillside, poised to roll down unassisted.

"Jeff, you are gonna get _sick_ ," George warned as he remembered that Jeff didn't really have trouble with queasiness from spinning around or getting dizzy the way he sometimes did, and corrected himself. "If nothing else, you're gonna be real dizzy!"

"It's fun enough to make it worthwhile. Haven't had a chance to do this since before I left home to start this whole thing!" Jeff rolled over toward the slope, and inertia and gravity carried him down, rolling faster and faster until he was stopped by a snowbank a good twenty feet downhill, landing in a giggling heap and staying down a few minutes for his head to stop spinning before sitting up.

"You're crazy," George teased affectionately. _And too cute for your own good too,_ he thought.

Warren covered his eyes, shook his head, unable to watch.

"Think you could go and roll down a hill like that, Torch?" George asked, nudging Warren with his elbow.

"Oh, _no!_ " Warren blushed and shivered again with his arms tightly and taking a few high steps in place. Seeing Jeff finally right himself to stand up with snow stuck all over his coat and in his hair so he was coated in a white dusting gave him the phantom sensation of being even colder than he was. "No. Not sure if I'd actually get sick -I might feel sick, but I'd be so dizzy I couldn't... -I'd be afraid someone would have to help me back up the hill."

"I think that'd be you and I both regardless of getting sick or not."

Jeff finally made it back up the hill, still shaking off snow as he went.

George looked right at him with a dead serious expression. "Jeff, you look like a ghost."

"It's not gonna turn me into one," Jeff joked back. "It'll fall off and melt." He lightly hopped a couple of times in place so that snow crystals dropped off of him, though most stayed in a fine powder that was slowly melting into water droplets on the surface of his coat. "See?"

George simply reached over and affectionately brushed some of the snow out of Jeff's hair. Then, Jeff picked up his inner tube and went back to the shed to put it away. Warren followed Jeff with his snowboard, deciding he'd had enough out of it for one go.

"So, what are we doing -any ideas, Jeff? And Warren, are you staying with us or going inside?"

Warren blinked and shook his head, having lost his focus again and was staring blankly around the corner as Winger and Def Leppard were climbing back up the front hill and setting up to race each other again -and actually remember to attempt keeping track of who was ahead after a second time of losing their focus in the fun of it.

"Still thinking on that, because I'm not sure. Good question. Guess it depends on what we're doing..."

"We could take the last sled out now," Jeff suggested, seeing Jeff and Eric bringing it back around. "Ever been sledding down an actual hill, George?"

"No, actually, I haven't."

Jeff's doe-like eyes got as big as saucers. "Then you have to try it! If not now, later today for-"

"Hey, guys!" shouted Fred, running around the veranda to see down the back. "We're having an open snowball fight on the hilltop now -Juan, Bobby, Robbin, Don, Mick, and Jeff and I -if you all want to join. It's on the ground only -no climbing around the lodge or throwing from it and such, so it should be a little less unpredictable! We're trying to split it up even with the three of us -Cinderella, Dokken, and Ratt. George, Don and Mick are looking for you and Jeff. And Warren, Robbin is looking for you too!"

"-we can go sledding later," offered Jeff, deciding that a mass snowball fight with a more traditional style was right up his alley, and something that everyone else might not have been up for later.

"Alright, then; let's go. Jeff, you gonna help me catch Don?"

"If he's on the opposing team, then yes!" Jeff threw his arm around George's shoulders and ran past the lodge out to the front. Warren trotted after them through the deep snow, deciding to hang with the usual method of just going along with everyone.

"Tom's helping Mal to hold the fort down until he's off phone duty, Stephen won't come outside, but Eric's gonna keep score. So it's even now that we got the rest of us here for it now! Time to get crazy!" Mick declared.

They split up starting in a line formation on either side. Jeff LaBar, Bobby, Juan, Don, and Mick stood on one side, and Jeff Pilson, George, Fred, Warren, and Robbin stood on the other.

Eric stood to the side at the end of both lines, ready to count them off as he held his arms out to the side like a referee.

"Alright -guys, get ready ...and, GO!"

It was mass turmoil as formation broke and the lines blurred, curving to close in on more of a circle with opposing sides throwing back and forth. With less running around and hiding, it was all offensive and direct attacks, none of which could be sprung by surprise out from behind a corner, but there was no place to hide either.

Jeff Pilson sprang back into action, having the time of his life running beside George. They took turns snatching up snow and pointing out potential attack paths, fighting strategically together.

Mick proved to be just as wild in the snow as on the LA streets. He was quick, and he played rough. Any time he caught somebody on the opposing side, he announced it with a loud whoop -something along the lines of "YES!" and "Gotcha!" He was perhaps the strongest fighter on his side. 

Juan and Bobby were painfully inexperienced in the snow, and with Bobby being too aggressive in his attacks and Juan simply being too spazzy and impulsive, neither had any strategy to it. They missed the majority of their throws. Jeff LaBar and Don were doing better than them, and Don readily admitted to not being agile enough in the snow. He fell down multiple times, which set both Jeff LaBar and Jeff Pilson off in giggling every time.

"Both of you think it's funny!" Don scolded, tossing a snowball at Jeff Pilson and missing, only giving George the chance to nail him.

"It is funny!" 

Within ten minutes, it was appearing that George's side was winning. They'd landed far more hits on their opponents according to Eric's count. Fred and Robbin were excelling in the same way that Mick did, and Jeff and George had a good system down. The only one on their side having a struggle was Warren, who as usual, was bewildered in combat. In fact, the stealthy, defensive style around the lodge had been a better fit for his shy sense of strategy. Direct, offensive attacks in the open, however, were definitely not. He did manage to dodge a few attacks and make some of his own, but as minutes passed, he stayed behind Robbin and George more, staggering about in the snow like a lost kitten too weak to hold up on its legs. As soon as he came forward, the other side took great joy in him being an easy target, especially Bobby, who kept getting him in the head, and by now after multiple hits, he was freezing.

"We've been running for fifteen minutes, guys, and I'm cutting this one off at twenty! It's now thirty to forty-two -Fred, you all better watch it, cause they're creeping up on you all!" teased Eric. "Mick, you all can get'em, just keep going after it-"

"Oh, shit!" yelped Don, falling down in the snow as the throwing increased all around to a frantic speed rather than casual aiming and throwing with lots of time to think it through.

"Get the fuck up! Quick!" Mick ran up behind him and all but yanked him up to his feet by the arms.

"Uh-oh!" Panting, Jeff LaBar threw an attack at Fred, who ducked at the last second. A moment later, Fred managed to catch both Juan and Jeff LaBar, and Jeff Pilson caught Don in the stomach as he was getting back up with Mick's help.

"Gotch'!" Mick fired back and caught Jeff Pilson, then George got Mick.

"Two minutes left -you guys are gonna be neck and neck if you keep up the pace; come on!" Eric pointed at his watch.

Warren managed to make one attack on Jeff LaBar, who promptly lost it giggling for a few seconds again.

"Good one, Torch!" encouraged Robbin. "Don't go back there and hide -keep trying for it!"

"Oof!" moaned Don as George got him in the stomach and let out a victory whoop.

"Mick, you all are getting run up on again, you all got forty-seven to sixty-two! Jeff -my Jeff -don't be shy; get Fred down!" Eric continued, trying to rile everyone up. "You guys have got t-minus a minute left!"

Jeff LaBar caught Fred in the shoulder.

"That was a good one, Jeff, keep'em going," cheered Bobby. "Knock'em out and show'em who's boss!"

"Hey!" Juan yelped and got Robbin back right after getting it from him.

"And you all have got ten! Nine! Eight...!"

George and Jeff Pilson simultaneously hit Don from opposite sides, stunning their singer for most of the last few critical seconds.

"...Five! Four! Three! Two...!"

One of Mick's snowballs flew errantly away from Jeff Pilson and toward George. George ducked at the last second, and the snowball cleared him to pelt an unsuspecting Warren hard in the face, packing snow in his eyes and disorienting him enough not only to stun him, but knock him off his feet and send him flying back a few paces. Having stood too close so that George blocked his view, he hadn't even seen it coming.

Mick froze for the critical remaining second, not having expected that at all.

"Oooh-hooo!" Bobby cried out, slapping a hand down at his side with forceful laughter. "Knock out!"

Fred took the remaining second to catch both of them with little resistance.

"Yeah, I'd say he got it good, but if you two don't focus, you're gonna keep getting it too!" Juan scolded them.

"...One, and stop! Fred, your side has this one seventy-three to sixty-eight!" 

"Whoo!!!" Jeff Pilson and George slapped fives between each other, then with Fred. Robbin caught all three in a bear hug, and they all shared victory cheers before letting each other go.

"Warren, are you okay?" George turned around to look. Sure enough, he'd let himself get overtaken again.

Warren attempted to raise a thumbs up with one hand, wiping ice out of his face with his other. He was shivering profusely, barely able to form the signal, let alone get the snow out of his eyes to see.

"Aw man, I'm actually a little sorry about that." Mick admitted. "That was a hard one." He'd thrown that one extra aggressively in excitement and figured it might have hurt a little.

"You all don't worry about it -keep on with each other and I'll take care of him. I think he was already going down," said Robbin, running over, away from everyday else, before kneeling down to get a closer look. "Come here; let me see you."

"I-I'm okay," Warren chattered, trying to curl in on himself. He wasn't entirely sure if it was because he was embarrassed, or how he was chilled through and sitting in snow that came up to his waist. He was also embarrassed because his sinuses were running even more that earlier, and between sniffling it back and trying to wipe the snow out of his eyes, it looked like he was crying instead.

"I just want to make sure it didn't hit you anywhere it could really hurt you." With the thumb of his glove, Robbin helped Warren brush the snow out of his eyes with the gentle touch he had that seemed impossible for his stature. He was extra careful around Warren's sharp cheekbones and eyes, checking for ice abrasions, and for any tell-tale impact welt.

"Looks like it hit you on the bridge of your nose. It didn't break directly on an eye though -that's what I wanted to check for. You're alright, just a little stunned and cold. Maybe you need a break in the lodge." Robbin wrapped his arm around Warren's slim shoulders and hugged him against his side.

"Well... We still made it," he said exhaustedly, attempting to prove he wasn't upset -just past the limit of what he could physically handle. He managed to hitch the corner of his mouth into a half-smile, half wince, exhaustedly resting his cheek on Robbin's chest. "I would be the first one to go down for the count, as always."

"It was a pretty long one to keep up with, to be fair, and we've been out here over an hour now. Are you thinking you're done with this for awhile, Torch? Because you're at least looking like it."

Warren nodded, sniffling again.

"Alright, then let's get you inside." Robbin pulled Warren up from the ground, and still holding him against his side with one arm, lifted his other to flash a thumbs up to the others. Seeing that they were already well back into a second battle, having redistributed by having Juan change sides, Robbin turned around, and he and Warren made their way back to the lodge. Once on the veranda and under the overhang of the upper deck, the two stamped as much snow as they could out of their boots before opening the door to the mud room.

"Here, we can put our gloves on the windowsill over the radiator in here to dry out."

"Everyone good?" asked Tom, looking over from the couch. He sat up from his reclined position.

"Everyone here is a-okay," assured Robbin. "Warren and I just had a little too much battle action -we need to stop and thaw out."

"Hey, if you two need towels or blankets, remember that we've got those and hot drinks in the common room," Malvin reminded.

"Sounds great -thanks, Mal." Robbin peeled himself out of his coat, before turning to Warren, who was out of his snow gear and gingerly rubbing his hands together. "I'll get you some coffee; you get yourself a towel and dry off."

"And Warren, if you've got a lot of snow soaked through your clothes, change those clothes," Tom added, pointing down the hallway he was roomed on. "Same thing as with gloves. Unless you're planning on going back outside and getting soaked again in the next hour, you should warm up a lot faster if you're dry. Having wet ankles is one thing, but if it got all in under your coat..."

"It's not that bad, guys." Warren blushed at the fussing. He got a towel from the cabinet off of the common room and wiped the remaining snow off his face, then patted the ends of his hair dry. "It's like -I dunno, somewhere just below my knees. It didn't get -you know, like, not in my coat and stuff."

"Alright then, you be the judge of what you want to do. If you still can't warm up after awhile where the snow got you, consider it."

Warren draped the towel around his neck and went for the stack of blankets. "I probably will later. Right now I just want to sit down," he pleaded.

"Well, you can come right on over here and do just that," said Robbin, setting a mug of coffee down on the table. As soon as he did, Warren sat down, wrapping the blanket tightly around his shoulders before snaking his hands out from under the edge of it to get to the mug.

Stephen looked at Warren skeptically.

"I can't figure out how you're so much colder than King when you grew up in Chicago and all the cold weather there."

"You know Torch is nothing but skin and bones -he was probably cold in here even before going outside," said Robbin. "Not that that's everything considering some others, but he runs cold."

"I was always cold in Chicago," Warren murmured, lightly tapping his fingers against the sides of his mug, trying to acclimate them to the heat so he could wrap his hands around it without feeling like it was burning. "Life improved when I moved to California just with the temperature change."

Robbin pulled a chair up next to Warren, and with a blanket draped over his shoulders, wrapped his arm around Warren again to pull him inside his cocoon.

"You held out for an hour and fifteen minutes," he reiterated from earlier, now seeing the wall clock to guess on an actual time span. "That's pretty long for most of us anyway -not just you."

Warren smiled weakly.

"Looks like they just finished another round and broke it up now anyway," said Tom, watching from the lounge window. "Uh oh, I think we're gonna have trouble out there of another sort.

Closer to the porch, Jeff LaBar and Eric had gotten into a one-on-one snow fight. Jeff had cornered Eric, who was trying to sneak back up to the deck. Now they were having another snow fight right on the veranda for Mal or Tom to clean up after.

Eric yelped and playfully shoved Jeff back as Jeff tried to stick a wet glove tip against his ear. Instantly, he gasped as Jeff fell off the veranda and on his back in the snowbank around it, but the snow was so thick that Jeff's fall was well cushioned, and significantly reduced. He might as well have just been pushed back onto a bed. Still, when he hit the ground, his feet flew up above him before slamming back down in the snow. He scooted himself forward, then thumped the heels of his boots on the wooden walkway, grabbing the post and trying to pull himself up.

"That looked so ridiculous, and you couldn't even see what you looked like!" Eric snorted.

Snickering, Jeff made it to his feet, scooped up a handful of snow, let out a battle cry, and then charged back up on Eric. He shoved it in Eric's face, pulling a moan out of him.

"Mmmff!"

"Admit defeat!" Jeff teased.

"ENOUGH!" roared Eric. "You keep doing that and you're going to have to go change gloves when you've barely been out here over an hour and a half!"

Jeff flinched back, looking a bit shaken again as he had following Mal's scolding. But then he saw Eric's joking grin and immediately broke out in nervous giggles, knowing Eric was just trying to get him riled up.

"Well, now you've given me a real reason to go after you," Jeff giggled. "Now you'd _really_ better run!"

Tom shook his head from where he was watching out the window and came back into the common room.

"They're nuts," he chuckled, leaning against the doorway.

Stephen snorted. "Everyone out there is nuts!"

By now, Jeff had pushed Eric down in the snow the same way, and Fred had run up to them to join in, leading to full-on wrestling in the snow. It was nothing painful or hard, but finally, Eric admitted full defeat, being overwhelmed with wet gloves, snow in his hair and face, and the ends of his hair getting in his mouth.

"No! Too much! Too much!" Eric yelped through laughter. He ran frantically down the veranda and dove in through the northeast side door as an escape attempt, throwing his coat off and leaving it in the hallway. Hearing Jeff coming up behind him, he continued down the hall, through the lounge, and tried to run through to the common room, only to get blocked in the doorway between the two rooms by Tom. He quickly realized that it was on purpose too.

"Let me in, Tom!" he shouted, giving Tom a playful but forceful shove.

"Nah-ah, Eric," laughed Tom, sliding around from behind it to block the doorway in perfect mimic of a bouncer. "You said you wanted out in the snow, before everyone else was even up. _You wanted out; you stay out!"_

"I wanted out when Jeff wasn't completely crazy yet -and Fred is even worse now! _Let me in!"_

"Aw, spoil-sport!" Jeff howled.

Before Eric had to even explain what he meant about Fred, Fred tore through into the lounge from the mudroom with his snow gear still on. He sent melting snow chunks scattering all across the floor, and he nearly plowed both Eric and Tom down like bowling pins shooting around the corner into the common room. Tom jumped back to the side of the doorway inside the common room, and Eric managed to jump off the threshold to lean against the lounge wall at the last second, saving themselves from impact. 

Jeff took that moment to chase Eric down the hall, and Eric locked himself in one of the bathrooms to take cover until Jeff could settle down, reducing Jeff to hysterical laughter on the hallway floor.

Fred went straight for the table and sidled up next to Stephen, still jogging in place when he got there.

Stephen raised his eyebrows and grinned lazily, before casting a slow, sidelong glance to Fred out from under his overgrown side bang.

"Fred, brother, what are you up to now? Other than getting snow all over this floor, that is." He dropped his sideways glance to the floor. "Fuck, that's a lot too... but, not my point. Anyway." Stephen reached out, looping his arm around Fred's shoulders, and pulling him in close the way he usually did when he had the tendency to cling. "What is it? Gonna hang out with us in here?"

If there was one person in the world as of late who was capable of bringing a good side out of Stephen Pearcy with little struggle, something that seemed nearly impossible to achieve, it was Fred Coury. All it had taken was the first time Ratt and Cinderella had stayed at a venue together about a year back, and Fred seemed to have become the vocalist's surrogate little brother.

"How 'bout we go back outside," asked Fred, pointing over his shoulder as Eric and Jeff, now having come back down to Earth, were changing gloves and heading back out.

"Yeah, how 'bout we _not?"_ Stephen reached his other hand up with a mischievous grin, curled into a fist, and gave Fred a hard noogie on the head.

Fred squirmed away and grinned, still fidgeting in place. "Are you even going back outside in the snow today?"

"Sometime before everyone else goes in, sure. Not gonna say when."

"Oh, not fair! I want a definite answer," complained Fred.

"Tough noogs!" Stephen motioned like he was going to get Fred again.

"No!" Fred jumped out of the way, laughing. "At least give me an estimate!"

"Something like... not now. A little later."

"Come on!" Fred laughed, grabbing Stephen's shoulder and yanking on him, all but pulling him out of his chair. "You're missing out on _all_ of the fun!"

"Nooo! Don't make me go back out there just yet!" Stephen moaned, now clinging to the edge of the table like his life depended on it. "It is way too cold for that! And too crazy -I don't wanna..." 

"I think we're gonna stay inside here for awhile," agreed Robbin. He was still wrapping his arms around Warren, who was still clinging to his blanket and lightly shivering, but finally starting to get comfortable. "I'll go back out sooner, but everyone else, I'm not sure. We're going to have to come up with a different nickname for Torch if he doesn't stay awhile longer -we've been inside for almost half an hour now and he's still frozen out!"

"How 'bout you go back out with Jeff and Eric, Fred, and maybe keep them from driving each other crazy instead of egging it on?" asked Tom. "Or you could find something else to do with everyone else still out there for awhile. Bobby and Juan are probably going to enjoy hanging with you and Jeff and Eric rather than the two of each other.

Stephen rolled his eyes as at Tom's reprise of the 'Captain Obvious' role. "Yeah, ya think? Alright, Fred, I'll tell ya what. Come get me in an hour or so -that'll still give us a good amount of time -and I'll hang with you then. Not now though."

"Fred, did you check and see if there was anything else to do in the shed?" Robbin suggested.

"All the sleds are gone," Fred lamented. "I want to go down the hill out front down toward the stage, and Juan took the last sled that's accessible on the back hill. And the one that's up in the rafter is broken. Even if I could get to it, its got a runner detached."

"Well, let's go see if there's anything else in there you could use for that." Stephen held up a warning finger as he climbed up from his chair. "I'll take you around to the shed, but I'm not going out in the snow _yet_. Get that in your head, 'cause you know I'm not changing my mind."

"Inner tubes," cut in Tom. "You guys have inner tubes out there. That won't have as much control of your direction and you might go down backwards, but you can do it -I saw Jeff Pilson take one down the back and it slid down pretty smoothly."

"Those are no good for speed though," Fred pouted.

"Yeah, no acceleration control with those," agreed Stephen. Fred's like me -he likes to go fast. Snowboards don't hit on much there either." 

"Those are more balance and strategy," Warren explained in a timid murmur.

Stephen paused in thought, before shifting to point toward Fred. "Tell ya what, you find something else to do for now -because you know toward the end, the others will come in so there'll be more than one, and when you come get me later, we can race each other, okay?"

"Just down the hill in back of the lodge, or can we take the big hill down to the stage complex?" 

"Shit, that's a good question for me too," Stephen groaned. "See if you can catch one of the others when they go down -just look and see how fast those are going. Because it had better be a good, fucking fast ride down there if we're going to have to climb all the way back up. That hill was difficult enough for the vans to climb up on the way in before it got covered in two feet of snow. But if we do the back hill, we can do it a few more times anyway."

Fred gave a thumbs up and ran back outside to see if he could rile Jeff and Eric back up again.

"Man, you are adamant about not going outside yet," teased Tom. "Too cold or worried about getting sick?"

"Seriously? Ya think I'm worried about getting sick?" Stephen snorted. "I don't care what it does to me, I just can hardly be bothered to go out there this soon after all that shit up on the deck."

"You mean you can't be bothered to stop being a spoil sport and come outside, along with how many other things you can't be bothered to do," chided Bobby, standing in the doorway and rolling his eyes. He'd come in to swap gloves, and overheard it all. "Like-

"Don't you start in on that; nobody asked you!" Stephen shouted, suddenly smacking his mug down on the table and springing up out of his seat. "That's it, I'm coming out there, but only because I'm gonna get you! You got it coming now-!"

Laughing sinisterly, Bobby turned around and ran back outside as Stephen chased after him, right into the mud room and heading outside.

"Hey, you guys! Knock it off with the nasty talk, or I'll put _both_ of you out in the snow and I'll _make_ you stay out there whether you like it or not," Tom scolded, and this time, it was clear by his voice that he wasn't playing. "We don't want anything to do with _that_ in here!"

Deciding he didn't want to hear it whether it continued or not, Tom chose that moment to go run the broom over the porch and wherever else snow had been tracked on the veranda again.

Warren covered his eyes with his fingers and shook his head, moaning:

"Ai-yi-yi, not again..."

"Stephen, you'd better put your coat back on before you go out there, or you're gonna regret it," warned Robbin. 

He'd barely gotten the words out before Stephen came stumbling back through the door, shaking snow out all over the floor and gasping for breath. Bobby had just gotten him right in the chest with a snowball, which was plenty shocking without his coat.

"Aw, hell no!" he shouted, all but throwing himself back down in his seat and curling in on himself, shivering to warm up.

Robbin tossed his blanket over to Stephen, deciding he was done with it, then got up from his seat.

"Don't say I didn't try to warn ya, alright?" he said, being nice enough not to say _that's what you get_ like everyone was thinking instead. "Warm yourself up." He put on his own coat and used one of the towels Tom had given him to wipe up the snow Stephen and Fred had scattered about the floor, before hanging it up over the back of a chair and running toward the mud room.

"Hey, Blotz, coming back out with you in a moment -get yourself ready!" he shouted with a mischievous grin, sitting down on the floor to pull his boots on.

"Come at me -I'm already waiting!" Bobby hollered through the door.

Tom chuckled, slipping back in the side door. He wasn't sure what to make of the rapid change of demeanor between them, but was just glad there wasn't an aggressive fight like when they'd first gone outside.

Robbin stood back, now geared up, and prepared to charge through the porch door for humor.

"Alright, get r-"

"- _Oo-oof!"_

At that moment, Robbin got caught in the doorframe, colliding with Don, who was on his way inside. Luckily, going in opposite directions, Don just got pushed back outside the door rather than wedged in it with Robbin, who stepped back a couple of feet to ensure the doorway was clear.

"Oh, shit, Don; I'm sorry, Are you alright? You come in here while I'm backed away. Damn, this door just isn't being fair to you..."

"No, you're fine," said Don, coming in and peeling his coat off. He was holding a hand to his cheek as he continued into the lounge. "I'll be alright -you're not the problem. I just got it in the face with a hard one from George is all. You can tell Warren he's not the only one to be done in by a hit in the face now." 

"Nice to know," called Warren sarcastically through the doorway.

Don sat down on the couch by the lounge window, looking back behind himself to get a look outside, then turning back to Robbin, who followed him with one of the towels Malvin left by the door. "But, other than a scratched cheek and being chilled out, I'm doing great. It's no big deal."

"You're not hurt, are you?" Robbin put a hand on Don's shoulder and leaned forward to get a closer look. "It didn't draw blood or anything, did it? -because I can get you a warm washcloth for that."

"No, I'm good. It's scratched, but not that deep. Thanks Robbin." Don wrapped the towel around his neck to protect his back from his dampened hair. Then, catching the window out of the corner of his eyes and noticing something unusual in it, he let out a shrill yelp and nearly sprang forward off the couch. Robbin jumped too -more as the result of Don's freakout, before both of them realized what -or who -it was.

**"MICK!"**

Don and Robbin promptly broke out laughing after shouting in unison at Mick. Knowing Don was by the window, he had gone up to it intending to startle him, and with the most maniacal expression possible, smushed his face and hands against the glass. Now, he stood back, laughing wildly and pointing at Don. He'd been quite successful, and he was rather pleased with himself.

"You just scared the living daylights out of me!" Don groaned, knowing the glass was thin enough for Mick to just hear him.

"At least you're laughing after getting slammed in the face and wedged in the door for a third time!" Robbin pointed back to Mick. "Man, you got me so bad with that too!"

"Wait, what'd he do?" Stephen ran forward into the doorway between the lounge and the common room, snooping for trouble as always.

Don shook his head and sighed, giving a lopsided grin that he could manage while still stinging from impact. 

"Oh, nothing. _Mick._ He's crazy. And there's a big, fogged up smear where he put his face on it too because the glass is so cold there's condensation!"

As if on cue, the sound of the door opening and closing came from the mud room again, and a minute later after removing his coat and kicking his boots off, Mick came around the corner, still with a shit-eating grin.

"You wild bunch of nothing but fun..." Robbin clapped his hands down on Mick's shoulders from behind and playfully jostled him, mock-scolding inanities. "Alright, Don -make sure Tom's not struggling to hold the fort down -I'm going back outside now, not sure for how long."

"It's about time!" Bobby shouted as Robbin reappeared in the doorway, having gone up on the porch to try and figure out what the delay was about.

"Hey, we're not in any hurry today. I'm out now, you come on." The door closed behind Robbin, shutting the residual chaos outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mixed Band dynamics are so interesting to write. A lot of these bands present have some inter-relationships: some have worked together in past bands, side projects, or even went from one band to another, and some of the guys are just friends from being in the similar genre of music. What's notable is that based on interviews and written accounts, some of the characters here have almost completely different personalities and dynamic with somebody from another band as opposed to when these bands are isolated. Made for a lot of thought, but in some cases actually allowed everyone to be even fluffier.
> 
> Also, the levels of aggression in the snow fighting, ranging from completely innocent to where it's fighting for real, has a direct relationship between which bands tend to have more in-fighting and drama. That's one big reference, and then REO Speedwagon, because the song was actually written when they got snowed in for real, and why the heck not?


	4. Indoor Snow Fights and Ridin the Storm Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when five bands at a venue set for a music festival get snowed in by a storm that cancels the performance too? Everyone there has the wildest snow day of their lives! (Extremely Fluffy Crackfic)

"Mick, that was good," said Tom, coming in from sweeping the porch. He'd seen Mick startling Don from the outside and had heard the shouts resounding from the building enough to know what he'd managed.

"Oh, it was great!" called Mick. He and Don had now relocated to the common room.

 _It just got super quiet again in here,_ Tom thought to himself. _Nice._. He stomped out his boots again, and with an extra towel, he went and wiped up the melted snow Eric had tracked into the bathroom so no unsuspecting person coming inside to use it slipped.

"Everyone doing alright?" Malvin emerged from his room. "A few minutes ago it sounded like some big riot had broken out."

"It got a little crazy for awhile," admitted Tom. "But we're alright. I don't know what to make of some of it -some of it looks innocent and ends up not, and then some looks dangerous and ends up harmless!"

Malvin started to head for the side door.

"I just swept the porch," Tom warned.

"Oh. Thanks, Tom."

They went to the lounge and sat down. With quiet banter from the common room in the background, Tom took his guitar in hand again and this time, with everyone up, allowed himself to strum some chords and fingerpick some patterns.

"Interesting patterns there, mate -simple, but pleasing. And with some little things in there that stand out. Trying to write something?" asked Malvin.

"I can't say if this'll turn into anything or not," said Tom. "I'll at least save the pattern though if I decided to rework it. We're going back in the studio to finish our next album after we get out of here -we've already been making trips in and out of it on breaks in the tour. We still need to get a solid title track, so I'm hoping something will click from this today."

"Not a bad place to settle in and write if it's like this in here."

"Mal, this is my writing element, trust me." Tom grinned, blushing lightly. "I know it's great -otherwise my bandmates would be pulling me outside whether I wanted to be there or not, because I wouldn't have an excuse to stay inside!"

"Sounds accurate."

Tom had a full, main riff, and a general progression to build off for variation about half an hour later.

"Well, here's Kip and his mates finally looking to come inside," Malvin noticed as they were coming over from the hill toward the lodge. "That's almost three hours they've been out, and mine are almost at four."

Paul was coming up to the porch with Rod, and Reb diverted to the side door to take a bathroom break. Kip stayed near the porch, but rather than coming onto it, stayed to the side and appeared to be talking to Eric and Jeff LaBar with no intention of coming inside.

The front door opened, and Rod and Paul made their way inside the mud room.

"Alright, Paul -you deal with your gloves -I'm just gonna leave my shoes under the radiator for a second and go deal with these." Rod slipped through the lounge and down the hallway toward his room.

"There you all are! I was wondering if you'd all disappeared," joked Tom, peaking in from the lounge.

"Oh, we're having a blast out there. Five rounds down the big hill on sled. The guys from Def Leppard are done with it; we're not. Probably gonna go back down at least a couple more times when we go back out. I don't know; we might have gone back down without them before stopping, but Reb asked to, and it's probably time for me to swap gloves. Good time to run in anyway, because we won't be holding the others up." 

Paul pulled off his gloves, and just for show, wrung them out over the doorway and visibly extracting some water droplets, before setting them on the windowsill and holding his hands over the radiator with a sigh.

Tom stared incredulously. "I guess you weren't kidding about those gloves, Paul. Those are done. It'll be over an hour or so before they dry out."

"I may have gone overboard with the snowballs earlier," Paul admitted, grinning sheepishly. "And throwing loose snow on my bandmates' heads."

Tom gave the start of a laugh in a noisy exhale. "Any of you hanging out in here with us for a while before you head back out?"

Paul shook his head, holding his hands over the radiator and warming his chilled fingers. "No, we'll be going back out pretty soon -I'm just warming up for a few minutes. Reb might come in here, but since he came through the side door, I wouldn't bet on it. And Kip still is outside; unless we have to be somewhere, you usually can't make him come in out of snow like this before he's done for the day."

"Where'd Rod go?" Tom asked. "It sounded like he had a little situation coming inside by whatever he was saying."

Paul grinned. "Yeah, nothing too serious. He left his boots on the bus last night, so as one could imagine, his sneakers aren't exactly keeping the snow out. I'm only dealing with gloves; he went to go change his socks."

"Oh-no! Better let Mal know to ask them to send his boots up tonight so if we're snowed in again tomorrow, he'll have them for it."

"Kip already made that list before we went outside, and we made sure they were on it, but we can only work with what we've got for now," assured Paul.

Rod emerged from the hall, holding a couple of washcloths he'd snagged from the bathroom cabinet. 

"Busted, Paul," he giggled, having heard the conversation. He was blushing a little, knowing his problem was the topic of it.

"Uh-oh," said Paul with mock-worry, "you caught me, and we made you blush." 

"No worries. Wet socks don't spoil the fun -as long as I can go outside, it's good enough for me!" Rod declared.

"No, there are worse things, for sure," agreed Tom. "As long as you keep changing socks when you need to so you don't get frost bitten."

"I think it'll be alright." Rod went to go line the bottoms of his shoes with the wash clothes to try and absorb some of the melted snow and give himself some extra protection. "This should help some, anyway -even if it might feel a little funny."

Playful yelping and the light thumping of running feet on the wooden boards of the veranda were audible through the window, and a second later, they could see Kip and Reb chasing each other around the porch, with handfuls of snow.

"Guess that answers whether Reb's gonna come in and hang out with us," said Paul. "We're heading back out whenever you're ready, Rod. Tom, you want to come with us? You don't have to keep going back down if you only want to go once."

"I guess I am at a good stopping point," Tom said, shifting his guitar off his lap. He needed to let what he had sink in and solidify inside him before he messed with it any more. First, he took a cautious, sidelong glance toward Malvin.

"I can handle it on my own for a bit, mate, you go on ahead with them and have some fun."

"Alright!" Tom went to go gear up, and Rod and Paul followed him to head back out. Seeing that Tom was coming back, Kip held on to one of the sleds Def Leppard had left behind so Tom had the option of his own if he didn't want to jump on one of the two sleds they were using.

"Sleds are back!" Jeff Pilson whooped, grabbing George by the arm and motioning to the other sled Def Leppard had vacated, which Reb was bringing around to the side to put back by the shed.

"You want it?" he asked, turning around and bringing it back toward them.

"Yes, thanks!" called Jeff.

"So are we going now, since we've got it?" asked George.

"Yeah, I'd go get goggles from the shed though. If you stay here and watch the sled, I'll go and get us some."

He found the guys in Def Leppard wrestling around with pulling snowboards out.

"Ever done that before?" he asked.

"No," admitted Phil. "We have no idea what to do with these, but we're bored with sledding now. So, maybe we're about to make a stupid decision, but we're going to try it."

Jeff giggled at this, got two pairs of goggles, and ran back around to meet George. They made their way to the edge of the big hill, towing their sled, by the rope rigged on the front.

Few things made George nervous, but for some odd reason, this sledding trip had him weary. It was one thing earlier when they were planning to go down the back hill, but the front hill was another thing entirely. The steep incline, knowing how steep it had felt on the van ride in, plus knowing it was slippery, and the fact that it could bounce and pitch them off... He was unsure whether he was more worried for himself, or of Jeff getting hurt when they'd both been through some insane experiences and near misses in the last couple of years. Looking down the slope that Jeff had the nose of the sled poised on and picturing how fast it would fly down left him with a thumping heart.

It also wasn't assuring, knowing that they were going to take on an extra steep hill when he had no idea how his selective motion sickness was going to respond to sledding. If the sled pitched on snow in any way similar to how a boat might pitch on rough water, there was a chance he wouldn't be feeling too great by the time they got to the bottom.

"Alright, you want to be in front, or me?" asked George, strapping on his goggles that Jeff got him.

"I've done this before, and it's a lot smoother in the front, so that might be better for you. It can get pretty bouncy and you'll feel the turning more in the back. I think that's fun, but so is being in the front and getting the direct view down. You might want to decide that and not me," Jeff warned. "Actually, if you're worried about getting sick, seeing straight down and focusing straight on where we're going toward should help you a little."

"Hard to say, now I'm a little nervous," George chuckled, beaming when Jeff affectionately hugged him as though to try and ease his concern. "The idea of seeing straight down is a little scary, but I don't want to get sick. I'll try the front."

"Alright!" Jeff steadied the sled. "Just remember to lean to the side if you need to turn -I'll have more effect on that from the back anyway. I'll push off too. It's a lot of fun."

"I'm not doubting you on it." George cautiously lowered himself onto the sled, looking down and breathing deeply when he suddenly got snatched into a hug from behind, making it impossible not to blush and smile.

"Good?" asked Jeff, settling back down behind him.

"Good."

Jeff stuck one foot off to the side of the sled and pushed into the ground swiftly, sending the sled over the edge of the incline.

The sled bounced a little as it got going. George could feel it pitch behind him, not too violently, but enough to be quite noticeable as the speed picked up. Adrenaline coursed through George's chest and he felt his stomach drop at first as he saw just how steep the incline was and how fast they were going down. It was a little scary, and he was beginning to fear for sure that his stomach would flip out over it. 

Then he heard Jeff laughing all the way and whooping with every bounce. The sound was contagious, and he chuckled nervously, releasing the adrenalized tension. Less than five seconds later, he was laughing for real and whooping with Jeff.

The sled finally stopped at what felt about a minute and a half later at the bottom of the hill, coasting a few feet from the incline, giving them a level view of the complex across the lot.

"Whooooo!" 

"You alright?" asked Jeff.

"Not that bad, actually," George admitted. He reached up to clear the film of snow that got kicked up off his goggles.

"Not bad at all." Jeff grinned. "Longest one I've been on for sure. I'd say the best."

"Well, let's go back up and see how long it takes." George strapped his goggles back on. "Maybe we'll do it a couple of more times."

"You guys made it!" called Paul from a few feet over to the side. He and his bandmates were helping Tom reattach the rope to his sled to pull it back up the hill after it came off the second he tried to start tugging it.

"We did!" Jeff called back. "Tom, you actually made it out of the lodge!"

"Yeah, we had to have Paul twist his arm a little," said Kip facetiously.

Tom blushed. "Probably just for this run. It was good though. Are you guys going again?"

"We're considering it when we get up got the top," George admitted. "Aw, hell with it, Jeff, we'll go again."

Perking up, Jeff ran to help George pull the sled back up the hill.

Behind the lodge, Def Leppard was finally coming out of the sled with their snowboards and approaching the back hill.

Rick, unlike his bandmates, took an inner tube, deciding that he wasn't going to go for the snowboard. He'd learned to compensate for a lot of things, but balance was something delicate that required him to pick up his feet to move rather than sliding them along on a moving surface if he was going to keep it well. The tube would give him more than enough fun anyway.

"Alright, Steve, are you gonna go first, mate?" asked Phil.

"Hell no, you go first," Steve retorted.

"Aw, great!" Phil feigned a scowl. "So I can make a bloody fool of myself before everyone else, because I have no idea how to do this?"

"We'll go down together then, does that work?" offered Steve.

"Right then," Phil conceded. "Long as we don't run in and plow each other down!"

Rick grinned. "Hey, you two ought to try and see if you can cross in and out of your paths, just like you do with your solos!"

"That might work if we actually had experience with this," Phil laughed. "If this translated to a guitar solo, it would probably be a rig meltdown and some terrible feed-backing. Alright then, here goes nothing."

"On your marks..." started Joe with a grin.

Steve and Phil straightened their boards to face down the hill.

"...Get set..." continued Sav. Now the two terror twins had one foot on the board, poised to push off.

"...GO!"

They started off slowly. 

Phil was shaky, but steady, focusing on keeping a straight path.

Steve closed his eyes, trying to feel his balance, but not wanting to look. Internally, he knew it was only a matter of seconds before he was going to fall down.

Or, so he thought.

"Steve, you go mate!" Sav hollered.

His path oscillated slightly from side to side -almost gracefully. Only the shaking in his knees as he concentrated hard on keeping himself pushed upright showed that he wasn't entirely used to the sensation.

Slowly, Steve opened his eyes, realizing he'd pulled ahead of Phil and was smoothly riding down, halfway to the bottom.

His face bloomed with one of the beautiful smile he got when he was purely happy. It was a great sight to his bandmates in that moment, as that smile seemed to not have been present as often lately.

"If that wasn't a ten out of ten for somebody who's never done that before, then I don't know what is!" Joe declared as soon as he and Phil reached the bottom of the slope.

"So you're a natural snowboarder, then?" quipped Phil, lifting his goggles to steal a sidelong glance at Steve, before clapping a hand to his back.

Steve blushed, lowering his chin bashfully, but continued smiling uncontrollably.

"Never knew I was," he spoke just above a whisper.

Sav looked down. "You did great, mate."

"Well, Sav, Joe -you all still have to try it," encouraged Rick.

"I guess since neither of you did too badly, I'm the one of us to make a fool of myself here, then," Sav murmured. "Oh well, sometimes that's what makes the most fun."

"For everyone but the person made to look a fool," Joe retorted.

Sav giggled. "Depending on what, yes!"

"Ready, and go!" shouted Rick.

Sav pushed off cautiously. Joe attempted to lean into it and gain speed, trying to avoid getting hung up in ridges like Phil had.

"I can't get going -whoa!" yelped Sav as his snowboard finally caught on and got moving just a couple of seconds behind Joe.

Joe, starting to move smoothly, decided to lean even further forward to increase his speed and see just how fast he could get. It was that moment his snowboard hit an uneven spot from a snowbank or a ridge in the hill -most likely a tree root underneath, and his feet lost contact with the board.

Still having a good momentum, Joe kept moving as the board flew out from under his feet and further down the hill. But rather than going the same direction with it, he on the other hand, flew a good three feet as he fell forward, and plunged head-first into a snowbank on the side of the path by a tree.

At that moment, Sav leaned back to stop himself so fast that he fell back where he was, sending his board falling down the hill unmanned too.

There was timid silence for one second as Sav and Rick sent each other cautious glances, Sav putting his hands indignantly on his chilled bottom, then they ran over to check on Joe.

Pushing his hands down through the snow to push himself up from the ground, Joe scrambled about with his feet to find the ground with his toes for extra stability. Outside of the snowbank, he was only visible from the knee down. The pair of kicking boots emerging from the snowbank was like something out of a cartoon.

Rick caught a serious fit of the giggles at the spectacle as Joe finally got his bearings and popped his head out.

Sav was gasping, horrified but all the while struggling to hold himself together under the hilarity unfolding before him, terrified that one laugh and he'd piss Joe off. 

"Joe, mate, are you-"

"DON'T! _FUSS!_ Don't fuss, you bloody idiots! For goodness' sake, don't fuss!" Joe growled, shaking snow out of his hair and face. "I'm alright!" He turned to notice Rick. "Oh, great! Of COURSE you find it funny, eh?"

Rick still stood giggling unabashedly. At that moment, Sav's resolve cracked and he doubled over, taking an unintentional step forward that left his legs crossed and his balance off, putting him right back down in the snow.

Joe huffed, before smirking. "I'm joking mate, I damn well _know_ it looked pretty funny!"

"And there you two have it -talking about making fools of yourselves! Saying that it's funny for everyone but who has it happen -Joe, now you've gone and done it, mate!" Rick declared. "You've gone and _done it!"_

"I've done it!" repeated Joe.

Rick whumped down hard on his inner tube and flew down the hill, giggling. "You've done it!" he shouted, passing by. "Whoa!"

"Hey, Steve!" hollered Phil as he and Steve were climbing back up. "You showed us how it's done; why don't you show Joe how to do it then?!"

"Sure, mate," Joe groaned. "Bloody sure!"

"Well, then, do it again?" asked Sav.

"We've already embarrassed ourselves; there's no danger in it now," Joe noted. "Let's do it!"

Tom emerged at the top of the front hill now, running back to the lodge. Against all better judgement, he'd gone down a second time with everyone, and after the second round, it was clear George was frozen out and had better not do a third round before taking a break. Now, Tom was running back just to make sure things were still in order if Malvin had had to get back on the phone, so that George could come in and have what he needed.

"Oh, look who's made it back finally," noticed Mick from the window. "Was wondering how long it would take for them to make it back up that hill!"

Tom hopped up on the porch, stomped the snow out, and came inside.

"We're good, mate," said Malvin, looking up from the couch in the lounge. "The fort didn't collapse while you were gone. I swear, you chose the most boring time span to run out there -you missed absolutely nothing. A bunch of them came in, but it's been surprisingly quiet -I guess they all tired themselves out. I've got to check back in on the phone, but I'll take care of getting them back inside first."

Tom let out a relieved sign and went back in the common room to settle back in and warm up. He saw his own bandmates were still outside, but Juan and Bobby had come inside. They'd opted to hang out and talk with Don and Mick, so no fighting had broken out yet. Whether it stayed that way or not was highly questionable.

Outside, Robbin helped Jeff and George bring their sled back around to the shed, before heading in with them. Malvin met them in the doorway of the mud room with towels.

George shivered, pulling his coat off and having snow drop out from under it.

"Alright, George, you've got snow all down and inside your coat -I think you'd best go down the hall and change," he said.

"That's where I was headed. And you need to change clothes too," George ordered Jeff as he shed his snow gear and turned out just as snow-covered. "Even if you don't get as cold as I do, it doesn't mean you can't have problems, and you rolled down the hill earlier too."

"Second one I've brought in today chilled through," chuckled Robbin, patting George's shoulders. "Go in the common area when you're back. There's hot drinks and blankets in there. Torch is hanging out in there too; I think he's staying in. We'll all hang out for a bit."

"Hey, George, tell me about that hill," Stephen demanded, as soon as George made it back to the common room with Jeff a few minutes later after changing. "Is it any good in the speed factor?"

"I'd say it was pretty enjoyable." George smirked, sitting down with a blanket. "For me it was, even if it was pretty cold too. Depends on what you think is enjoyable."

"We don't have much going on in here at the moment, Jeff," warned Mick. "It's pretty boring right now."

"That's alright, I'll come up with something to do in here."

"I was having a lot of fun, honestly," George reassured Jeff. "Maybe I should have held out for another run-"

"-Oh, no; you were ready to come inside," insisted Robbin.

"No, because it wouldn't have been so fun if it became too uncomfortable on the way back up from it," said Jeff. "Hey, I know what we can do in here!"

"What?"

Jeff got up and ran down the hall to his room.

"Jeff?" Don leaned over to try and see through the doorway going down the hall.

"The suspense!" Mick gave an evil laugh.

Jeff came back with one of the many notebooks he kept with him for stowing away song ideas, and going to the back where he had plenty of blank pages, started ripping some out and balling up the paper.

"What for, Jeff?" asked George.

"These aren't gonna break anything," said Jeff. "Nor are they going to melt and make a mess, or get anyone colder, so we can have our own kind of snow fight indoors. I used to do this at home as a kid whenever I missed out on a snow if I was sick and had to stay in."

"So, throwing balled up paper around?" asked Don, sounding a little skeptical. "Seriously?"

"Pretty much. It's not something one would really think of doing for fun, or making the connection to a snow fight with, but actually..." Jeff trailed off, grabbed one of about twenty balled up sheets, and threw it at George. It hit George in the chest and landed in his lap.

George reached down to get it, realizing he could get back faster when he didn't have to make a new snowball -it stayed intact.

By now, Jeff was already throwing more around the room toward everyone, and they were already getting tossed back and forth over the table.

"Fight!" boomed Robbin, jumping up out of his chair to really get into it.

Unlike outside, this sort of battle had no malice whatsoever to it, just from the result of being an unexpected novelty. Don watched, face lit up with one of his lesser seen big grins as Jeff, George, Robbin, and Warren went tearing around the room, snatching and throwing balled up paper, and laughing wildly as the action spread to include everyone.

"Never in my life have I seen anything like this," remarked Tom, coming in from the lounge to join. "And now that I have, I only wish I had sooner!"

Every now and then, a paper ball came within close enough proximity that Stephen picked up a folded up piece of newspaper from a basket on the side of the room and used to to paddle it back toward the fighters. Tom seemed to find that to be a great idea and grabbed more newspaper, trying to hit the paper balls that came toward him like it was a baseball bat.

"Oh!" exclaimed Don, covering his eye for a second before realizing it was more the surprise he'd felt and wasn't really hurt.

"You got it in the eye?" chuckled Juan.

"Yeah, that might be the only real hazard here!"

 **"YES!!!"** Mick clapped his hands together, letting out a hearty guffaw. He'd just managed to get Jeff in the head.

Shouting erupted as Robbin and Bobby ran out in the lounge with Tom and started chasing each other down with the paper balls they had, running back into the common room, around it, and back through the lounge.

George was getting ready to run after them with Jeff, when Warren caught one and looked it over, appearing to painfully hold in a giggle.

"Don, I think-" Warren stuttered as he pointed to the paper ball and a dark blue smudge on it before raising his hand to cover his mouth timidly with his fingers. "-this one -here's the one that hit you in the eye!"

Don had put on his overdone eye makeup earlier when he was getting dressed on autopilot, before getting reminded the festival was postponed. He hadn't bothered to go to the trouble of taking it off once it was on, so it wasn't hard to figure out where it that blue smudge might have come from.

"It probably is!" he snorted. "It probably is." Don sat back, raising his eyebrows and shrugging before catching a paper ball in mid-air and sending it to Mick.

"You know it's time to lay off on the glam makeup when-" George started.

Don turned around and threw the paper ball forcefully at George, hitting him right in the head to shut him up.

"HEY!"

Mick slapped his hand hard on the wall, cracking up. He tossed the paper ball aside at Jeff and then turned to prop himself up in the doorway to the lounge.

"Unless that one hit Stephen in the eye," said Juan. "That would do it too -but then I get the feeling that's the one that hit Don, because Stephen wouldn't have been so quiet if it hit him."

"Yeah, d'ya think? You all woulda known!" Stephen shouted, matter-of-factly.

"Shhhh!" Juan winced and rolled his eyes, covering his ears to make his point.

Don cracked up. "And don't we know it too!"

Warren shrugged and threw the paper ball, getting a direct hit on Stephen. He actually perked up and laughed -out loud and hard -instead of panicking at the fear of getting chewed out for it like he would have in any other circumstance.

"Torch, you are full of it today!" Robbin chuckled.

Don glanced through the mud room doorway at the sound of the front door opening. "I think that's Fred coming in for you, Stephen -you'd better brace yourself."

"Not to be confused with _Freddy,"_ joked Jeff.

Don snorted. "That did sound pretty ominous the way I said it."

Fred saw the action and promptly jumped into it. He sat down at the table to relax for a few minutes and take a few sips from a mug of hot chocolate he'd gotten for himself, but reached up as he did and tried to catch the ones flying overhead to participate. It didn't take long before he was catching them and making shots, and after a couple of minutes to rest his legs after running around in the snow, he was up and chasing Tom around in the lounge.

"I'm coming after you; you'd all better run!" Bobby got behind Juan's chair and held up three paper balls over his head, marching in place extra loudly and slowly to give the heavy, creeping footsteps sound effect.

"Bobby, stop!" scolded Juan. "You elephant around this entire lodge! And every other place we stay at too."

Don gave off a low cackle. That was true even back to the early days of Dokken when he'd lived with Bobby for a short while. Bobby wasn't exactly light on his feet or quiet when he was hyper.

Just to spite Juan, Bobby ran into the lounge, climbed up to stand on a couch, and jumped off of it. There was a loud thud on the floorboards beneath the carpet when he did, and Tom and Fred could feel the shockwave through the floor under their feet.

"Bobby, _stop,"_ Robbin warned, and at the exact same moment that Fred knocked a chair down in the lounge with a loud 'clack!' whilst chasing Tom around.  
Juan's eyes grew big.

"You broke it-!"

"No, Fred knocked over a chair," corrected Tom as Bobby came running back through the common room, still holding the paper balls he had.

"You thought I broke the couch," Bobby snorted, running to the side and throwing all three, hitting Juan in the head with every one of them. Then he sat down to continue battling from his seat.

Stephen grabbed a paper ball off the table, threw it over toward Robbin, then nudged Juan in the shoulder with his elbow. "You _really_ thought he broke the couch too," he teased through condescending snickers. "Like, how would he even do that? That is ridiculous-"

Juan sighed, pressed his hands over his eyes, and shook his head. "Stephen, please..."

"'Please' _what?!_ "

"Never mind."

"Oh, YES!" This time, Mick had gotten Don in the butt as he was standing up, causing the singer to blush a little.

Fred ran in from the lounge, dropping to his knees to try sliding under the table to sneak through to the other side. He got stopped when he just barely hit his head under the table -painless, but enough to make him stop himself. 

Warren leaned over the side of his chair and began throwing the paper balls he'd been trying to squirrel away for a quick attack down on Fred, creating the indoor, reverse version of what Fred had given him and his bandmates from the balcony a few hours ago.

Fred crawled through and popped out on the other side back at his seat. He grinned as he went back to his mug of hot chocolate, taking another short break.

"Who's gonna get it next?" he asked, grinning naughtily.

Bobby looked around, and realizing Stephen had resettled into a chair next to him in the chaos, turned toward him and held up the two paper balls he was saving as if to say both were going for him.

Stephen's shit-eating grin at all the action vanished to yield more of an 'oh, shit!' look. He put his arms up over his head to shield his eyes and leaned way over in his chair, shrinking away from Bobby.

"Oh, you'd _better_ hide," Bobby snickered, holding up one of his paper balls in a more threatening posture. He faked a hard, wild, arm-swinging throw, leaning in Stephen's direction and missing by mere inches so that Stephen flinched reflexively and winced. "You'd better hide!"

Stephen listed over some more. With no room to lean any further before falling, he scraped back his chair, jumped up, and clambered out of it in a ridiculously ungraceful manner, catching his foot more than once. He tried to dodge the other chairs around the table while ducked down to run, grabbing errant paper balls on the floor to try and use as defense. That bought Bobby plenty of time to pelt him twice before he got around the table to cower behind Juan. 

"I said you'd better hide!" Bobby grabbed another and leaned back like he was going to throw it too.

"Fuck this!" Stephen ran two more chairs past Juan to sit down on the other side of Fred, then ducked under the table edge to be out of reach.

Robbin then hit Bobby with a paper ball to distract him before play-fighting had a chance to turn into real fighting.

Jeff threw a paper ball toward George, and he and Don lunged over the table from opposite sides and snatched for it at the same time. Their hands came down on one of the fold lines, and George pulled one end while Don pulled the other. Both were leaned over the table, shoulders in contact with the surface, faces pointing in opposite direction, holding their hands behind their heads while blindly pulling back and forth on the paper.

"Oh, boy, here we go!" Mick boomed.

"Okay," murmured George, sounding just about as gentle and calm as anyone would expect to hear him address Don if Hell were freezing over, except for his voice was trembling on the verge of laughter. "Don... Don... Don... you can let go and give it to me, and we'll all go back to throwing, and everyone'll be happy, and everything'll be fine..."

"What now?" demanded Don, giving the paper a good, hard jerk, already laughing. "What now? Huh? Huh? Huh?!"

"You're saying that like you're gonna get it, and you're not!" George hollered, pulling harder.

"Oh, yes I am!" argued Don, tugging toward himself.

George gave another hard tug. "Oh, no you're not, you-"

The paper ripped and with the resistance dropping away, George slammed his elbow against the table. "Ouch!"

"Look what you two did," Mick scolded, pointing with both hands to the two and the halves of the paper.

"Hey, I win!" George hollered. "I was pulling it closer to myself when it tore, I win!"

Jeff whooped and hugged George.

"No, but I have more than half the sheet -look!" argued Don, unfolding the part he had to show he indeed did.

"I still...!" George started ripping the remaining part of the sheet up and threw the scraps at Don.

"Hey!"

"Even over a piece of paper! Man, you guys are fucking crazy," groaned Mick, laughing weakly and scrubbing his hands over his face as he shook his head at their arguing.

Juan tried Robbin's strategy and threw a paper ball then, trying to throw at Don and George to break up the argument. Later, he'd decide he was successful, but not because he made the hit on one of them. Instead, he aimed a little too high and short, and it made a perfect arc over the table and plunked right down in Warren's mug and the remaining contents of it.

George and Don heard the plunk and jumped up to look, both looking like they weren't sure whether to laugh or not in fear that it would embarrass someone and cause worse.

Warren met Juan's eyes, both looking taken aback for a split second.

"Look, I made it," Juan finally hollered, eyes bugging out as he tried to hold a serious expression. "I MADE IT!"

Warren went weak and flopped over the table, tremors from laughter visible in his shoulders, and one of his hands, which was curled into a painfully tight fist on the table.

Fred whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. He'd had a big swig of hot chocolate in his mouth when that ball splashed down, and was trying so hard not to laugh. It was too much for him to swallow it all at once without choking from how his throat constricted from impending laughter, so he had to hold it in his mouth until he could stop laughing, which wasn't happening either.

"King, look at Fred!" Bobby elbowed Robbin, who promptly looked over.

"No, Fred! You poor thing! Bite your tongue and hold it in; you have the strength!" he encouraged, trying to help him work up the force of will.

Fred's shoulders shook and tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes as the laughter coming up from inside him only got stronger. He made a doubling-over motion like somebody about to lose their balance, reaching out to brace himself on the table, and his tightly pressed lips trembled in the way that said he couldn't hold out.

"Oh, shit, he's gonna spray it," warned Stephen. _"Uh-oh!"_ He jumped up from his seat next to Fred and stood behind the chair and out of the projected danger zone.

Tom was pointing frantically to the kitchen door, which by the end of the table Fred was sitting on, was closer than the sink in the front corner in the room. 

_"Kitchen!"_ he shrieked, voice going into its shrill register he normally used for singing. "Run for the sink in the kitchen!"

Tom's reaction unfortunately only added to the humor rather than helping, and served to be the last of Fred's undoing. He snorted immediately, spraying hot chocolate on the table and floor in front of himself out of his nose and mouth.

"Ohhhh!" A collective shout around the common room just as the result of everyone being completely wound up.

Juan scraped his chair back some from the table, eyes bugging out even wider than when he'd landed the paper in the mug. Being next to Fred, the part of the table in front of him was well sprayed and dripping down the edge.

Having been missed by mere inches on both the floor and the table on the other side of Fred, Stephen stood locked in place in some combination of horror and amusement, hand stretched out and palm turned up in the perfect 'do you all see what just happened here?' gesture.

Mick flopped back in his seat and roared with laughter, slapping his hand on the table with loud thumping so the whole surface shook. The whole sight at the opposite end of the table from him was priceless. Don, every bit as amused, clapped his hands together hard and stood up. He turned to stand in the doorway and looked into the lounge to attempt getting ahold on himself before he ended up with laughing tears and blue raccoon eyes.

"Fred...!" Tom barely squeaked out, burying his face in his hands.

"Oh, good job, Fred!" Jeff choked facetiously, sliding the paper balls on that end of the table away to make sure they were safe from the spills.

Still struggling to lift his arms from how hard he was wheezing with hysteria, Warren sat up and lifted the soggy coffee paper -now unfolded from the ball it had been in -out of his cup by his fingertips. He held it up for a second over the cup as lukewarm coffee dripped from it, then tossed it to the side to land on the table in front of Juan and in the mess Fred had sprayed on the table.

"Now just look what you did... to Fred ...and the ball!" he gasped, motioning to the soggy lump that had once been a paper ball.

 _"Eww!"_ Juan shouted almost too loudly, throwing his head back and all but crying with laughter. "Yuck!"

"It's _just_ soggy paper and cocoa," George groaned.

Stephen pulled his chair back away from the spill a couple more inches, looking a little bewildered as to whether it was safe to sit down or not. "Fred, are you okay, kid?"

"I'll go get some paper towels." Robbin got up from his seat to help clean it up before Juan got further riled up.

Still laughing, Fred closed his eyes and beamed, giving two thumbs up. He exhaled forcefully through his nose so residual cocoa dripped out.

"That's fucking _disgusting."_ Stephen closed his eyes and shoved him away. "Go get cleaned up!"

"Never in my life," Jeff snickered with tears in his eyes as he and Robbin began laying paper towels down on the floor and table. "I have had so many indoor snow fights, and not once have I seen one land like that!"

"Oh, Lordy, I say that's gotta be one of the funniest things I've ever seen," agreed Tom, wiping his eyes. They were full on streaming tears of mirth.

"Man, we're crying and we've got hot drinks spilled everywhere," Mick groaned, leaning back in his chair, breathing heavily, and placing his hands in his aching sides. "Hooo!"

Five minutes later, the throwing resumed on a slightly less crazy level after everything had been wiped up. Warren had poured out the rest of his tainted coffee in the sink. Fred came back from cleaning himself up and was back to running between throwing in the common room and pitching to Tom with his makeshift bat in the lounge, and the hysterical laughter had ramped down to quiet giggling.

"Somebody missed me!" teased Fred in a sing-song voice, dodging a paper ball by mere inches as he ran back into the common room.

"Somebody missed _you..._ " Stephen snorted, walking to the doorway. "Alright, Fred, give me one minute to get ready. I'll go outside with you now, 'cause you're gonna wear a hole in the carpet running around if I don't, or you're gonna cause a meltdown in here again. I guess it's just as crazy in here now anyway as it was getting outside earlier."

"How fast are those sleds, by the way?" Fred asked, turning to Jeff Pilson. "It looked real fast when you and George went down."

"Oh, they are fast down that front hill compared to the standards I went by as a kid," Jeff assured. "They are super fast, and it's a lot of fun. But it is very windy and cold down there in the valley, so make sure you have something warm on under your coat if you're not used to cold."

"And it's gonna take at least fifteen minutes to walk back up, and that's if you're pushing yourself hard and rushing it," George added. "You will be cold by the time you get back up. 

"Can we do it?" asked Fred, looking to Stephen.

"We'll try it _once_ , and we'll see if it's worth doing again or if we stay to the back," he insisted, before turning down the hall. "Jeff, ya got me sold as of now -it'd better be good."

"Well," Jeff shrugged his shoulders and grinning meekly, deciding not to go into battle, "I think will be."

"Hey, Jeff?" Paul came inside from the lounge again.

"Yeah, what is it?"

"We're all back in for a break again. Kip and Rod are going to keep on sledding after Rod gets done dealing with his socks again, but Reb is thinking he's done with that for today, and so am I. We're gonna take a quick breather on the porch first, but if you want to come out and snow fight again with us, you're welcome to come along. We're going to invite Tom with us too, since he knows we won't play as rough as his guys."

"Go on ahead, Jeff, I think I'm done with real snowballs for today," George encouraged. "Some of those were getting painful. And we'd best wait on indoor snowballs a little before laughing gets painful."

"Hey, Jeff -speaking of that, we need to tell them the story about what just happened in here." Tom's eyes were lit up with amusement still.

"What happened?" asked Reb, peaking in from the mud room where he was changing gloves.

"Oh, it was pretty funny," said Tom. "Jeff and I can tell you out on the porch. Jeff Pilson, I mean by that. We need to tell my Jeff too though -and Eric."

Jeff beamed and hopped up from the table, running to join outside.

George turned around. "Hey, Warren, you want to come with me and try taking a sled down the _back_ hill?" he offered.

Warren shrugged. "Yeah, sure -I don't think I'd be in over my head with that."

"I'm not looking to get cold when I just started warming up," George added, "so we won't stay out too long for you this time. And I'm done with snow fighting outside, so you won't have to do that again either."

"Well, I know one thing -paper snowballs are a whole lot more fun than real ones."

"Yeah -because you can't actually hurt someone with one!" _Good ol' Jeff,_ thought George to himself, thinking of how they'd all been skeptical when Jeff had started it and how funny it ended up being. Where he came up with his ideas was beyond George.

Half an hour later, after six hours in the snow, Def Leppard were the first to go inside for the day. Malvin took care of them so Tom could continue to enjoy his time with Eric, Jeff LaBar, Jeff Pilson, Reb, and Paul.

"Alright, you all -that was longer than I expected, and I knew you'd all be out long. Joe, you go get out of those wet clothes before you come down sick, and don't you even try to bloody deny it, because you get sick all the time!" he scolded.

Phil and Steve laughed at this.

"And all the rest of you too!"

"We should anyway, just so we're not tracking it everywhere," said Sav fairly. "Since we're in early, I suppose we can shower too before everyone else gets in."

"So is this it for today?" asked Rick.

"Rick, I'm amazed you're not knackered," Malvin groaned.

"It's definitely it for me!" said Joe, already heading to warm up by taking a hot shower. "I'll meet you all in the lounge when I'm out."

"Listen, you all, they haven't said it officially, but I think you all are on tomorrow," admitted Malvin. "They have the roads blown off, and they have electricity back. And our equipment came in. They landed it in Philadelphia and had FedEx drive it in."

"Well then we definitely need to reign it in for the night if we're getting ready for real when we rouse ourselves out of bed," Sav decided. "When do we know for real, Mal?"

"When they bring supplies up in half an hour."

"Fair enough."

That half hour passed fast. Sav could have sworn he'd just settled into the lounge with Joe and Rick on the couch to enjoy some hot tea, and Phil and Steve had just gotten inside a blanket fort they'd built with a couple of extra chairs and blankets, when Tom came inside with Jeff LaBar, looking like they were expecting to be followed.

"Are they all coming inside behind us?" asked Tom, bringing extra towels from the common room back to the mud room.

"It looks like it," said Jeff. "It's been almost four hours since most of us first went out, and even longer for the Dokken and Winger guys, so it's probably time for just about anyone left to come in."

"Fred!" called Tom, seeing his drummer approaching the porch with Stephen. "Stephen, you made it and survived!"

"And it was way cool!"

"How many times?" asked Jeff.

Stephen and Fred held up three fingers.

"That'll tell you it was worth it," Fred quipped, going to get dried off.

"This is the last time we're coming in -I promise," Paul laughed, coming in with Rod once everyone in front of them cleared. "We're all done today!"

"Yep, my shoes are going to dry all the way this time," quipped Rod, shedding his gear. "It's not so bad on the sled, it's climbing back up where I get it all in there!"

"Still not enough to stop you!" Kip sneaked in behind Rod and playfully hit Rod in the shoulders and yelped to startle him.

"I think you've done that twice for every trip down the hill we've made today," Rod guessed, slipping back to his room.

"How many?" asked Tom, holding a towel to offer it to Kip.

"Eleven times." Kip stopped as soon as he spoke, springing a naughty grin and pulling his hands inside the arms of his coat so the sleeves hung loose.

"Why are you-? _-Oh, no!"_ yelled Tom, realizing what Kip was about to do. He held the towel out from himself as far as he could and shrunk back, squinting reflexively, but his smile gave him away. " _No,_ don't do it!"

Kip leaned forward and shook off in the perfect mimic of a dog, slinging his hair and coat around so that melting snow sprayed out at Tom. As it did, Tom tossed the towel on Kip's head and ran out of the mud room, snickering so hard he could hardly draw a breath.

 _"S-sst-o-p!"_ he managed to choke out in a whisper.

Kip popped his head out from under the towel and mimed like he was going to chase after to tease Tom before turning around instead to dry off and face Paul and Reb, who were both highly amused by it and giggling.

"Shake the snow off your coats out on the porch before bringing it in here so we can try and not track too much snow around." Kip held his coat over the threshold and shook the snow he hadn't sprayed Tom with out of it. "Holy cow, Reb, you are _soaked!"_

Reb had taken off his coat, revealing the extent of the melted snow Paul had thrown down through his coat soaking through his shirt.

"Yeah, that's all the snow Paul got me with hours ago, and more just now. I think it's fair to say he got me just a little bit, huh?" said Reb, understating the situation just to be funny.

"He sure did." Kip chuckled before getting serious. "Alright, we all know the post-snow day routine. Showers and dry clothes."

"Same as ours," noted Joe, looking over from the couch.

"Yeah, we'll be settling in and hanging out too after that."

They cleared just in time before Jeff Pilson busted through the doors. He'd run around back when his fellow snow fighters had started heading inside to catch the last run down the hill with George and Warren.

Jeff paused in the mud room with just enough time to yank off his snow gear before taking a flying leap into the common room, throwing up his hands in the air, and spinning around whilst jumping, snow crystals now melted to water droplets in his hair dripping to the floor.

"BEST DAY EVER!" he shouted.

"I'd say it definitely is for this tour," George agreed, heading down his end of the hall with Jeff to get settled.

"I see the ATV coming up the hill from the complex," warned Tom. "It's not hard to miss." Even with the waning daylight, it wasn't hard to see the orange vehicle, and as it was on the first night following a big snowfall, the light reflected off the snow, giving a light cast to the night sky that seemed to illuminate everything like natural night-vision.

Winger were emerging from showering and changing by the time the ATV made it up the hill. Everyone else had gathered in different places by then. The common room was filled back up with banter, everyone filling each other in on what they'd done. Def Leppard were now eagerly sitting in on another retelling of the indoor 'snowball' fight.

"Hey, everyone," called Malvin, looking through what had just been dropped off. The staff brought dinner supplies into the kitchen, leaving everything else for Malvin to look through on his own. "Everyone, we have keys to the big room upstairs now, so not only can some of you all do your laundry if you like, but that big room has a TV in it, and if you all want to gather up and watch a movie later tonight, you can."

"Perfect!" Tom grinned at the idea. It seemed like a good ending to the day it had been, and a way to relax before everything got ramped up tomorrow.

"Also, everything requested is here now!"

Eric finished inventorying used gloves and separated them into a pile to take up and run in the laundry when he did his own so they would go back clean.

"So, are we done?" he asked.

Tom looked around the lounge and common room from the doorways.

George and Jeff Pilson were cuddled together in a blanket on one of the lounge couches and looking like they might fall asleep soon. Jeff LaBar was hanging out in the common room with Warren to warm up from their last trips outside. Unlike their usual shy selves, they were actively participating in the retelling of the day to those who hadn't been with them at certain points. 

Steve and Phil had gone back to pass out in their blanket fort, and Rick had crawled in with them, curling up on a pillow to the other side, already making plans to himself to move the fort upstairs when everyone went to sit in for a movie.

Kip, Paul, Reb and Rod -now dried off and changed into dry clothes, were helping Malvin go down his list of requests and sort out everything that had been sent up into piles for each band. Rod was also holding one of the Clue boxes under his arm, having claimed it for a game when they finished sorting and took their own stuff to their rooms.

Fred and Stephen were picking up the undamaged paper balls on the common room floor and gathering them up to save them in case they decided to have another indoor battle later. Halfway through, they'd gotten distracted, pulled the trash bag out of the garbage can, and started trying to see who could shoot baskets from a further distance. It was already clear that sometime between eating dinner and watching a movie later, there would be a massive paper fight with all five bands.

"With everyone settling in, I'd say so," answered Tom.

"Yep, it's over," said Malvin. "Tomorrow's back to normal, and I reckon the lot of you won't ever see anything like this again -at least not up in a place like this with everyone that's here."

"We could only wish," sighed Tom, settling in an extra chair with his guitar again. "But you know what? I don't think we're ever gonna forget it either, whether it's the last best thing that happens to us all while we're together or not."

Laughter and shouting erupted in the common room as paper balls began to fly again.

Jeff Pilson perked up, instantly recognizing the sound, and pulled off the couch, tearing through the doorway. George followed him.

"No, Tom," he said, before heading inside. "We're definitely not gonna forget it!"

Thus began another night of hanging out, jamming, and battling -but for once across all five bands, all was harmless, and everyone was having the time of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indoor snowball fights is something my family has a tradition of doing at gatherings like Christmas and birthdays after my little cousin got these yarn-formed balls for her birthday that are designed to mimic snowballs for mess-free indoor snowball fighting. (If we don't have those balls, we'll improvise with tissue paper and such like the guys did here). It is a riot and a laugh attack every time, and even though this is the one main part that did not happen in my dream, the fic deserved it for the humor, and just maximizing the fluff (three of you guys in this fic aren't supposed to be cute -knock it off!) with everyone.
> 
> And I'm going to have to dedicate this ending chapter to one of my friends from way back in early childhood. I don't get much snow where I live, but any time it rained, he loved to shake off like a dog on me and his sister, and I know where my subconscious pulled that image in my dream from!


	5. Pssst!  Author's Note and FanArt Links!

Hey, everyone, I hope those of you who have made it through all four chapters got the enjoyment out of reading this fic that I got out of writing it. Thing is... I didn't just write it. I'm illustrating it too to remember my amazing dream by. I don't often illustrate, because it would take far too long to illustrate every fic I do in pencil sketch, (and I am *very shy* about sharing drawings of celebrities) but this one was special -I had too much fun with it, and if I'm gonna post the fic, I might as well post the art too.

So, I'm working on some drawings, and I already have one finished. It is from the beginning of the third chapter when Winger first goes out in the snow, and when Reb falls down and is getting snow thrown on his head. The link to the downloaded image will be below here, and it can also be found on my DeviantArt at NorthwestHokieRock for anyone hanging out on there.

Winger Snow Fight: https://orig00.deviantart.net/4dbf/f/2017/295/c/c/rocktober__snowed_in_part_1__winger_by_northwesthokierock-dbqd5yv.jpg

Dokken -George and Jeff Sled:  
https://orig00.deviantart.net/63ac/f/2017/298/1/4/rocktober__snowed_in_part_2__dokken_1_by_northwesthokierock-dbrnc7x.jpg

Def Leppard snowboard fail:  
https://orig00.deviantart.net/53d9/f/2017/300/c/5/rocktober_3__snowed_in__def_leppard_by_northwesthokierock-dbrvuoo.jpg

New! (Added 11/5/17) Dokken and Ratt: Don, Mick, and Robbin -"MICK!" (Window jumpscare):  
https://orig00.deviantart.net/053d/f/2017/309/c/a/snowed_in_part_4__dokken_2___mick__by_northwesthokierock-dbsu1r5.jpg

 

New! The indoor snowball fiasco with Fred! https://orig00.deviantart.net/2617/f/2018/014/8/5/snowed_in__uh_oh___indoor_snowball_fight_fail_by_northwesthokierock-dc01wp9.jpg

Thanks,  
-Northwestern

**Author's Note:**

> 80% of this fic, excluding this prologue chapter, is based on an amazing dream I had with five bands snowed in and stuck at some mountain lodge together, and it just put me in such an amazing mental state that I had to write a story about it so I'd not only never forget it, but always be able to go back and relive it. Some of the imagery and descriptions are a little lengthy -as it serves to draw the dreamscape out. It was truly great, writing it has been a lot of fun, and I really hope everyone reading this gets the same enjoyment out of it that I did.
> 
> Snow fun starts in the second part, and the snow action and craziness runs in parts 3 and 4!


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